U8RARY 

y^VriM^m^dtoiu 

•wtvwRyvTO  OF 

SAWCNfGO 


t 


& 

fc 


NICK  HAEDY  AT  COLLEGE; 


OB,   TH  K 


WOODEN  SPOON. 


PARK    LUDLOW,    A.M. 

AUTHOR  OF  "ONOE  IN   FUN,    TWICE  IN    EARNEST,1'    "THB  P.ED 
SHANTY   BOYS,"  ETC. 


'Revolt  Is  recreant  when  pursuit  is  brave: 
Never  to  faint  doth  purchase  what  we  cAve." 


CHICAGO: 
HENRY  A.  SUMNER  &  COMPANY. 

1882. 


COPYRIGHT,    188O. 
HENRY  A    SUMMER  AND  COMPANY. 


UJrr,  GAUKIT*  &  I.OTD,  PmimtM 
A.  J.  Cox  A  Co.,  Bixuuu. 


TO 


CHARLES    TAYLOR    CATLIN, 

MY   CLASSMATE 
AND   MOST    INTIMATE   COLLEGE   FRIEND, 

IN     MEMORY    OF 

..."  the  reverend  halls 
Where  once  of  old  we  wore  the  gown,'L 

AMD    OF    THE    THOUSAND     LONG     PAST     BUT    STILL    DEARLY 

CHERISHED  JOYS  OF  OUR  STUDENT  LIFE 

TOGETHER, 

I  Brticate  tijis  Utttle  Botnance, 

WHOSE  SCENES  AND  CHARACTERS  WILL  RECALL  TO  HIM, 

AS  TO  ME,  THE  OTHER  FRIENDS  WHO 

MADE  US  GLAD. 

P.  L.,  A.  M. 


PBEFACE. 


CIRCUMSTANCES  mav  idealize  the  homeliest 
common  thing,  and  a  mere  utensil  with  a  history 
is  no  longer  a  dumb  piece  of  service,  but  a 
token.  Let  this  apologize  for  the  wooden  whim 
which  names  my  college-tale.  The  concern  of 
my  hero  in  the  mystery  of  the  broken  spoon  is 
less  a  concern  of  inheritance  than  of  a  coinci- 
dence of  fortunes ;  for  both  the  young  heir  and 
his  old  heirloom  are  instruments  of  restoration. 
The  latter  brings  ancestral  values,  the  former 
ancestral  virtues  back  to  light. 

If,  in  the  events  and  experiences  here  told, 
my  readers  trace  an  example  of  a  genial  and 
helpful  soul  who  in  his  own  rising  raises  others, 
who  lives  to  gather  and  not  to  scatter  friends, 


PBEFACB. 

who  gives  as  much  and  as  gladly  as  he  receives, 
and  who  makes  goodness  rather  than  greatness 
the  load-star  of  his  pursuit,  perhaps  they  will 
not  blame  the  simple  device  by  which  I  have 
tried  to  weave  some  threads  of  romance  through 
the  sequel-story  of  Nicholas  Hardy's  student 
career. 

P.   L.,  A.   M. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   L 

IN  WHICH   COOLNESS  WINS,   ......      11 

CHAPTER   II. 
m  WHICH  NICK  is  EXAMINED,  AND  PLEDGED,    35 

CHAPTER    III. 

IN  WHICH  NICK  IS  SHAKEN   UP  AND  TESTED,      54 

CHAPTER    IV. 

MIND    AND    MUSCLE,      ........      75 


CHAPTER    V. 

«raiCH  ENDS  IN  SMOKE, 95 

7 


8  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    VI. 

A  LONG  DAY,  WITH   AN   ADVENTURE,  .      .      .115 

CHAPTER    VII. 

A  8PLUBGE,  AND  A  LAW-CASE,       ....    136 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

m    WHICH    NICK  u  ASSISTS  "   AT    A    KETTLE- 
DRUM,      161 

CHAPTER    IX. 

PONYING  FOB  BIENNIAL, 185 

CHAPTER   X. 

IN  WHICH  NICK  HAS  LONGINGS,      ....    210 

CHAPTER    XI. 

NICK  INVESTIGATES, 240 

CHAPTER   XII. 

IN  WHICH  NICK  IS  SURPRISED  SEVERAL  TIMES,   267 


CONTENTS.  9 

CHAPTER    XIII. 

IN    WHICH    NICK    HELPS     THE     "  COCHLEAU- 

REATI," 294 

CHAPTER   XIV. 

A    MIDNIGHT    BATTLE,    AND    SOME     STEANGE 

DEVELOPMENTS, 316 

CHAPTER    XV. 

IN  WHICH  NICK  STRAIGHTENS  OUT  THINGS,  .   340 

CHAPTER   XVI. 

IN  SIGHT   OF  THE  LAST  MILE-STONE,  .      .      .   368 

CHAPTER    XVII. 

IN  WHICH    THE  BROKEN    SPOON  IS    FINALLY 

MENDED, 389 


THE    WOODEN    SPOON; 

OR, 
NICK   HARDY   IN  COLLEGE. 


CHAPTER  L 

IN  WHICH  COOLNESS  WINS. 

His  cares  must  still  be  doable  to  his  joys 

In  any  dignity  ;  where,  if  he  err, 

He  finds  no  pardon;  and  for  doing  well, 

At  most  small  praise,  and  that  wrung  out  by  force. 

BEN  JONSON. 

-c/'Ou'vE   lied  to  me,  sir! "   cried  the    ex- 
cited Mr.  Nugent,  pounding  the  table 
with  the   soft   side   of  his  fist. 

u  I  do  not  recognize  your  right,  sir,  nor 
the  right  of  any  other  man,  to  talk  to  me 
in  that  way,"  said  young  Mr.  Hardy. 

11 


12  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

"  It  is  my  right,  as  a  trustee  of  this  insti- 
tution, to  call  yon  to  an  account,  sir.  Yon 
told  me  last  summer  that  my  boy  Pomeroy 
was  one  of  your  best  scholars,  and  gave 
you  no  trouble,"  persisted  Mr.  Nugent, 
angrily. 

"  Well,  sir,  do  you  claim  that  I  told  a 
falsehood  when  I  said  that  about  your  boy?" 
quoth  Hardy,  looking  the  man  coolly  in  the 
eye. 

"I  want  to  know  what  business  you  have 
to  send  me  these  complaints  about  him 
now!"  cried  Mr.  Nugent,  growing  furious. 

"  I  send  them  because  it  becomes  my 
duty  to  do  so,  sir,"  said  Hardy. 

"Then  why  didn't  you  let  me  know  be- 
fore?" demanded  Mr.  Nugent. 

"I  informed  you  as  soon  as  I  thought 
occasion  required  it.  Last  year  I  said  that 
Pomeroy  was  a  good  boy,  and  it  was  true ; 


COOLNESS  WINS.  13 

now  I  say  that  he  is  a  bad  boy,  and  this 
is  true  too,"  replied  Hardy. 

"  It  is  not.  You  don't  make  me  believe 
there's  all  this  difference.  The  difference 
is  in  yourself,"  said  Mr.  Nugent. 

"  Perhaps  it  is.  But,  begging  your  pardon, 
you're  the  only  man  who  thinks  so.  This 
morning  I  said  it  was  a  fine  day,  and  now 
I  say  it  rains.  The  difference  is  all  in  me, 
perhaps,"  said  Hardy. 

"  I  know  what  I'm  talking  about,  sir. 
You've  taken  a  dislike  to  my  boy,  and  — 
you'll  find  it  a  dear  quarrel,  Mr.  Nicholas 
Hardy,"  quoth  Mr.  Nugent. 

"  I  expect  that  a  person  who  is  ungentle- 
manly  enough  to  accuse  me  of  lying  will  be 
foolish  enough  to  try  to  scare  me  with 
threats,"  said  Hardy. 

"  You  forget  who  you're  speaking  to,  sir,* 
cried  Mr.  Nugent. 

"I  do    not  forget  who    I  am"    retorted 


14  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

Hardy,  "  and  I  respect  myself  too  much  to 
swerve  from  my  duty  as  master  of  a  school, 
out  of  deference  to  any  one's  anger  or  unrea- 
sonableness. I  know  what  the  ordinary  rules 

• 
of  school  discipline  are,  and  have  tried   to 

enforce  them.  I  have  taken  pains  to  ac- 
quaint myself  with  the  laws  of  the  state 
and  the  laws  of  the  town  in  regard  to  tru- 
ants. The  recent  violation  of  these  rules 
and  laws  by  your  son  I  have  reported  to 
you  duly  and  correctly.  You  have  my  tes- 
timony to  what  the  boy  was,  and  to  what 
he  is.  What  has  caused  the  change  in  him 
I  do  not  know,  and  it  is  no  part  of  my  duty 
to  find  out.  I  have  stated  the  facts,  and 
only  the  facts,  —  and  you  are  the  first  per- 
son, sir,  who  has  ever  insulted  me  by  ques- 
tioning my  truthfulness." 

"I  shall  take  my  boy  away  from  your 
tuition  at  once,  sir.  And  I  warn  you  that 
your  days  as  teacher  in  this  place  are  num 


COOLNESS  WINS.  15 

bered,  Mr,  Nicholas  Hardy,"  quoth  Mr.  Nu- 
gent, shaking  his  finger  at  the  object  of  his 
wrath,  and  turning  on  his  heel. 

"  In  one  month's  time  I  shall  cease  to  be 
the  principal  of  this  school,  according  to 
agreement,  and  not  from  any  agency  of 
yours,  Mr.  Nugent,"  said  Nicholas  Hardy. 
But  the  irate  trustee  pretended  not  to  hear 
him,  and  marched  straight  out  of  the  room, 
slamming  the  door  behind  him. 

The  above  rather  uncomfortable  interview 
took  place  in  the  upper  hall  of  the  High- 
town  Grammar  School,  one  day  shortly  after 
the  scholars  had  been  dismissed.  It  was 
our  hero's  first  really  harsh  experience  in  all 
his  ten  or  eleven  months'  tutorship ;  and,  as 
he  was  wont  to  say  afterwards,  it  "jounced  " 
him  considerably  after  his  "  long  smooth 
ride."*  But  he  had  been  used  to  jounces, 
and  expected  to  get  a  good  many  more  if 


16  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

he  lived.  He  had  taught  the  Hightown 
school  with  uninterrupted  success,  and  main- 
tained the  pleasantest  relations  with  all  the 
members  of  the  board,  who  employed  him, 
as  well  as  with  the  parents  of  his  scholars. 
Of  course  he  had  found  many  things,  greater 
or  less,  to  try  his  patience,  but  nothing  like 
this  sudden  and  ferocious  attack  by  Mr. 
Nugent.  That  he  kept  his  temper  BO  well 
under  it  was  a  wonder  to  himself,  and  a  just 
cause  for  thankfulness,  certainly. 

Pomeroy  Nugent,  or  "Pum,"  as  the  boys 
always  shortened  it,  was  a  smart,  intelligent 
youth,  quick  to  learn,  and  uncommonly  fluent 
in  his  recitations,  —  qualities  which  invari- 
ably gratify  and  attract  a  teacher ;  and 
Hardy,  on  first  acquaintance,  if  he  could 
ever  have  allowed  himself  at  all  to  have 
"  favorites "  among  his  pupils,  would  have 
selected  "Pum"  as  one  of  them. 

Of   late,  however,   the    boy    had    grown 


COOLNESS  WINS.  17 

unsteady,  and  showed  a  propensity  to  "  hook 
Jack."  This  was  of  more  consequence  to 
his  teacher,  and  to  the  school,  from  the  fact 
that  his  influence  and  example  were  enticing 
other  boys  away  from  their  studies.  The 
recent  possession  of  a  new  gun,  and  the 
general  effect  of  too  great  parental  indul- 
gence at  home,  no  doubt  chiefly  accounted 
for  Pomeroy's  misconduct.  But  if  he  had 
been  honest  enough  to  own  his  loss  of  in- 
terest in  his  books,  and  quit  school  entirely 
instead  of  injuring  others  by  his  own  neglect, 
this  would  have  ended  the  matter.  The 
young  preceptor  remonstrated  kindly  with 
him,  but  with  no  result  save  to  obtain  prom- 
ises which  were  never  kept.  When  he 

' 

chided  him,  the  youngster  became  impatient 
and  even  impertinent.  Inquiries  were  sent 
to  his  parents,  but  apparently  no  notice  waa 
taken  of  them.  Finally,  a  warning  that  the 
boy's  case  must  be  referred  to  the  truant- 
2 


18  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

officer,  unless  his  habits  were  corrected, 
roused  the  father,  and  brought  him  down 
to  the  schoolhouae  in  great  wrath,  as  we 
have  seen. 

Nicholas  was  right  when  he  said  that  Mr. 
Nugent  was  the  only  man  who  could  not 
see  -that  Pomeroy  had  changed  for  the 
worse,  and  who  blamed  him  for  thinking 
BO.  The  facts  were  well  known  in  all  the 
neighborhood,  and  there  was  scarcely  a  per- 
son who  did  not  censure  the  truant's  course, 
and  regret  that  his  father  indulged  him  in 
it.  The  preceptor  was  sure  of  his  ground. 
He  would  have  dealt  the  same  with  another 
boy  for  the  same  offence,  and  he  knew  no 
reason  why  he  should  make  an  exception  in 
favor  of  a  trustee's  son. 

The  next  morning,  when  Nicholas  went  to 
the  schoolhouse  at  the  usual  hour,  he  could 
not  get  in.  Inadvertently  he  had  left  his 


COOLNESS  WINS.  19 

own  key  in  the  door  the  previous  evening. 
Some  madcaps  had  secured  it,  without  the 
janitor's  knowledge,  and  in  .  a  spirit  of  mis- 
chief "  locked  the  master  out."  It  was  pro- 
voking to  Nicholas  that  at  this  particular 
time  his  own  forgetfulness  should  have  laid 
the  temptation  for  such  a  prank;  for  just 
now  (considering  what  occurred  yesterday) 
the  affair  had  an  ugly  look. 

"  The  hand  of  Pum  Nugent  is  in  this 
thing,"  Nicholas  thought  to  himself.  But 
he  did  not  stop  to  reason  long.  Two  or 
three  boys  and  half  a  dozen  girls  stood  at 
the  head  of  the  stairs  and  about  the  door, 
waiting  and  wondering.  "  There's  some  one 
in  there,"  they  said.  That  was  evident. 
The  key  was  in  the  key-hole  on  the  inside. 

"  Open  this  door,"  said  Nicholas  in  a  voice 
of  authority.  No  answer.  "  Open  this  door ! " 
There  was  a  slight  movement  within,  he 
thought.  He  put  his  ear  quickly  down  to 


20  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

the  key-hole  and  caught  some  words,  in  a 
feigned  tone.  "  Treat  first,"  —  that  was 
what  it  sounded  like.  Aha !  so  the  rogues 
were  up  to  a  bit  of  rebellion.  Nicholas 
knew  what  he  would  do.  The  janitor  was 
away.  He  generally  finished  his  work  and 
left  the  building  about  the  time  the  master 
came  in.  But  Nicholas  had  duplicates  of  all 
his  keys.  The  only  one  not  in  his  pocket 
was  the  one  inside  the  schoolroom  door. 
He  told  the.  scholars  who  stood  near  him 
to  "run  down  and  hunt  up  the  janitor," 
naming  several  places  where  they  might 
look  for  him.  The  moment  they  disappeared 
down  the  stairs  he  stepped  quietly  to  a 
small  door  at  the  end  of  the  passage,  un- 
locked it,  and  let  himself  into  the  attic. 

Meantime  the  young  rogues  in  the  school- 
room, most  of  whom  already  began  to  feel 
frightened  at  their  own  audacious  joke,  were 
destined  to  a  greater  fright.  All  at  once 


COOLNESS  WINS.  21 

while  they  stood  huddled  together,  discuss- 
ing the  situation  in  whispers,  and  arguing 
with  their  ringleader  whether  to  open  the 
door  or  scramble  out  of  the  back  windows, 
they  heard  a  bit  of  a  noise  overhead,  and 
down  into  their  very  midst  dropped  the  pre- 
ceptor, through  the  scuttle-hole  ! 

It  was  like  a  lion  leaping  among  a  parcel  of 
sheep.  And  certainly  it  would  be  impossible 
to  picture  the  "  sheepish "  consternation  on 
the  faces  of  those  boys.  ,  Instinctively  they 
scudded  to  their  seats,  and  sat  there  trem- 
bling. There  were  only  four  of  them,  be- 
sides Puna  Nugent ;  for  he  was  the  king 
scamp  in  the  mischief,  just  as  Nicholas  had 
supposed.  No  one  else  in  the  school  had 
any  motive  to  contrive  so  saucy  a  caper  as 
locking  the  door  against  him.  But  they 
were  all  "in  the  same  boat"  now;  and 
never  a  more  scared  and  sorry  set  of  cul- 
prits shivered  in  the  presence  of  power. 


22  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

The  master  had  suddenly  outflanked  them, 
and  now,  to  be  sure,  there  would  be  sum- 
mary vengeance. 

But  the  master  seemed  to  be  in  no  hurry 
for  vengeance.  He  uttered  not  a  word  till 
he  had  hung  up  his  hat,  opened  his  desk, 
taken  out  his  books,  and  coolly  seated  him- 
self in  his  chair.  Then  he  said  in  a  calm 
tone,  a  Pomeroy,  unlock  the  door." 

Pomeroy  obeyed  very  promptly  indeed; 
and  Nicholas  fully  expected  that  he  would 
dodge  out,  and  be  seen  no  more ;  but  in 
this  he  was  mistaken. 

The  boys  could  not  think  what  to  make 
of  the  preceptor's  strange  quietness.  The 
wonder  and  vague  dread  provoked  by  it 
quite  filled  up  the  measure  of  their  confu- 
sion. If  he  had  collared  them  as  soon  as  he 
appeared  among  them,  and  laid  about  vigor- 
ously with  ruler  or  rod,  they  would  have 
taken  the  punishment  with  a  good  grace. 


COOLNESS  WINS.  23 

But  his  silence  was  something  more  terri- 
ble. Beyond  a  glance  or  two,  and  the  single 
order  to  Pomeroy,  he  had  hardly  seemed  to 
notice  them.  They  might  have  guessed  that 
in  that  "glance  or  two"  he  was  conning 
the  list  of  their  names,  and  measuring  to 
himself  each  one's  share  in  the  morning's 
mischief — John  Grannis,  Abel  Bunco,  New- 
ton Taylor,  Fred  Hawkins,  with  ringleader 
Pum,  of  course,  at  the  head.  They  could 
not  have  guessed  that  every  other  minute 
he  was  trying  to  suppress  a  smile.  He  knew 
exactly  how  the  boys  felt,  and  there  was 
something  so  droll  in  the  fix  he  had  brought 
them  to,  and  in  the  hang-dog  look  they  wore, 
that  he  had  to  keep  his  eyes  off  them  to 
avoid  laughing. 

Presently  he  looked  at  his  watch,  and 
said,  "John  Grannis,  ring  the  bell." 

By  this  time  most  of  the  pupils  had  ar- 
rived, and  found  out  what  had  happened; 


24  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

and  the  flushed  and  curious  faces  turned  on 
the  preceptor,  and  the  lively  chatter  in  the 
entry  below,  told  how  the  story  of  the  lock- 
out, and  the  capture  of  the  five  boys,  had 
excited  them  all. 

Mr.  Nicholas  Hardy  was  the  only  calm 
person  in  the  room.  He  opened  the  school 
and  went  on  with  it  in  the  usual  way.  But 
few  of  the  scholars  could  fasten  their  minds 
on  their  lessons  long  at  a  time.  Every  one 
was  wondering  what  the  master  meant  to 
do.  They  knew  (some  of  them  to  their  cost) 
how  prompt  and  firm  he  had  always  been 
in  maintaining  discipline,  and  how  quickly 
and  effectually  he  had  always  dealt  with 
every  smallest  defiance  of  his  authority. 
Surely  there  was  a  rod  in  pickle  for  those 
five  offenders  who  locked  the  door.  As  for 
the  five  boys  themselves,  they  suffered  accu- 
mulating agonies.  Four  of  them,  at  least, 
were  completely  crushed  with  shame,  chagrin, 


COOLNESS  WINS.  25 

and  blue  forebodings.  That  state  of  feeling 
was  Nicholas'  advantage,  and  he  intended  to 
keep  it.  That  was  what  "  the  master  meant 
to  do."  He  had  made  up  his  mind  how  the 
matter  stood  with  those  four,  and  what  course 
of  treatment  with  all  would  have  the  best 
effect  on  the  fifth. 

•  During  the  forenoon  a  small  piece  of  white 
paper  slid  «very  secretly  from  hand  to  hand, 
and  finally  found  its  way  to  the  preceptor's 
desk.  There  were  these  few  lines  of  writ- 
ing on  it: 

"  MB.  HARDY  :  We  are  sorry  we  did  what 
we  did  this  morning.  Pomeroy  said  let's 
lock  the  master  out,  and  we  said  we  would 
for  a  joke.  It  was  a  wrong  thing,  and  we 
hope  you  will  excuse  us. 

JOHN  GEANNIS.      NEWTON  TAYLOR. 
ABEL  BUNCE.        FRED  HAWKINS." 

••, 
It  was  no  surprise  to  Nicholas  to  receive 

this   note.      But   it   was   a   surprise   to   him 


26  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

that  Pomeroy  Nugent  (notwithstanding  what 
his  father  had  said)  was  in  his  place  at 
school,  not  only  in  the  forenoon  but  all  the 
afternoon,  and,  though  evidently  very  ill  at 
ease,  behaved  and  recited  his  lessons  most 
unexceptionably.  Before  the  day  ended  he 
had  partly  surmised  the  true  reason ;  and 
before  he  left  the  schoolhouse  his  surmises 
were  turned  to  certainty.  When  the  school 
was  closed  he  signified  to  Pomeroy  and  the 
other  four  boys  that  they  would  remain  after 
the  rest  of  the  pupils  went  away.  After 
seeing  that  all  inquisitive  ears  were  out  of 
the  building,  he  was  about  to  sit  down  with 
his  five  young  offenders  for  a  good  talk, 
when  a  heavy  tread  up  the  stairs  and  a 
knock  on  the  door  announced  the  advent  of 
Dr.  Pliny  Norcross,  another  member  of  the 
board  of  trustees.  Bidding  the  boys  retire 
into  the  small  recitation-room,  he  politely 
welcomed  the  gentleman,  and  seated  him  in 


COOLNESS  WINS.  27 

his  chair.  Then  telling  him  he  would  bo 
with  him  in  a  moment,  he  immediately  re- 
joined his  pupils. 

Addressing  first  the  four  who  sent  him 
the  note,  he  said,  "  These  boys  have  apolo- 
gized to  me  for  the  part  they  took  in  the 
affair  of  this  morning.  They  will  never  hear 
more  of  it  &om  me  if  they  never  repeat 
such  an  absurd  and  lawless  piece  of  mis- 
chief. You  may  go." 

"Well,  Pomeroy,"  he  resumed  pleasantly, 
after  they  had  left  the  room,  "  you  are  going 
to  attend  school  every  day  now  —  are  you 
not?  —  going  to  study  with  us  right  along, 
to  the  end  —  without  any  more  offs  or 
breaks?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Pomeroy ;  and  for  some 
reason,  though  still  a  little  to  his  surprise, 
Nicholas  believed  the  boy. 

"And  now,  my  lad,"  he  continued,  laying 
his  hand  on  his  shoulder,  "  will  you  tell  me 


28  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

what  you  were  thinking    about   when  you 
locked  that  door?" 

Pomeroy  hung  his  head  and  twisted  one 
of  his  jacket-buttons.  "  I  wasn't  thinking 
much  of  anything;  I  s'pose  'twas  because 
I  was  kind  of  mad." 

"Are  you  mad  now?" 

"  No,  sir,"  replied  Pomeroy,  with  consid 
erable  feeling. 

u  Honestly,  didn't  that  fun  cost  more  than 
it  came  to?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  And  you  don't  put  your  hand  to  such 
a  scrape  again  ?  " 

"No,  sir." 

"  Very  well,  then,"  said  Nicholas,  smiling ; 
u  if  I  see  you  here  constantly  till  term  closes, 
I  shall  know  you  are  true  and  square  again. 
I  have  been  hunting  for  the  man  in  you, 
and  I  think  I'll  find  him.  Good-by  till  to- 
morrow." 


COOLNESS  WINS.  29 

And  the  boy  tripped  out  as  if  he  had  left 

a  big  load  behind  him. 

Dr.  Pliny  Norcross  was  a  physician  retired 
from  a  prosperous  practice,  —  a  man  of  books 
and  many  curious  researches  —  eccentric, 
moreover,  and  taciturn,  and  never  caring  a 
fig  for  the  goings-on  of  the  world,  unless 
something  extraordinary  called  him  out. 
Something  extraordinary  HAD  called  him  out.  / 

When  Nicholas  got  through  with  his  boys, 
and  came  back  from  the  recitation-room,  the 
doctor  greeted  him  with  an  explosion  of 
laughter.  He  laughed  so  loud  and  so  long 
that  the  young  preceptor  began  to  feel  a 
little  embarrassed,  not  quite  knowing  how  to 
take  it. 

"Well,  well,  friend  Hardy,"  quoth  the 
merry  doctor  at  last.  "  Ha,  ha,  ha  1  a  man 
with  Seth  Nugent  and  Pum  Nugent  on  his 
hands  both  at  once  has  got  enough  —  ha,  ha, 
hal  So  you  received  notice  last  night  that 


30  TEE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

your  -days  were  numbered,  and  this  morning 
had  the  key  turned  on  you  1  Ha,  ha,  ha !  — 
that's  too  good." 

And  then  Nicholas  managed  to  learn,  be- 
tween the  gusts  of  laughter,  how  Mr.  Nu- 
gent's  interview  with  him  had  leaked  out 
(thanks  to  the  janitor),  and  the  other  trus- 
tees had  put  their  heads  together  about  it, 
and  had  been  to  see  the  angry  man,  and 
softened  him  down,  till  he  was  ashamed  and 
tf  drew  in  his  horns,"  and  admitted  that  tho 
master  was  right,  and  undertook  to  look  after 
his  eon;  and  how  the  story  of  the  master's 
shrewd  trapping  of  the  boys  that  morning, 
and  of  his  pluck  and  coolness,  was  in  every- 
body's mouth,  and  people  everywhere  were 
calling  him  a  hero,  and  a  "  trump,"  and  "  a 
perfect  brick,"  and  all  tho  other  good-fellow 
things.  "  And  I  tell  you  what,  Hardy," 
concluded  the  doctor,  with  a  vehement  rap 
on  the  desk,  "you  have  yourself  to  thank 


COOLNESS  WINS.  31 

for  it.  We  had  set  you  right  after  Nugent 
came  down  on  you  so,  and  if  you'd  been 
imprudent  to-day,  when  the  boys  provoked 
you,  you'd  have  spoiled  it  all!" 

The  doctor  was  thoroughly  interested, — 
excited,  in  fact,  —  and  it  had  taken  him  a 
good  while  to  get  through  talking  and  laugh- 
ing about  the  events  or"  the  last  twenty-four 
hours. 

Walking  home  with  Nicholas,  he  fell  back 
on  his  old  themes.  "  By  the  way,"  he  said, 
"  did  you  know  that  the  original  and  correct 
spelling  of  your  name  was  Hardee  —  with  a 
double  E?" 

Nicholas  had  never  happened  to  know  that. 
He  supposed  it  was  because  he  had  given 
more  time  to  the  Hardy  spirit  than  to  the 
Hardy  letters. 

"Well,  well,"  quoth  the  doctor  bluntly, 
but  shaking  his  sides  a  little;  "the  name 
is  a  good  one,  and  has  been  borne  by  better 


32  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

men  than  you  or  me  —  which  is  saying  a 
great  deal.  You  are  going  to  college,  but 
you'll  never  be  a  '  senior  wrangler,'  for  you 
were  not  born  with  a  gold  spoon  in  your 
mouth;  nor  were  any  of  your  ancestors,  I 
think,  for  I  know  the  line,  though  it  isn't 
in  Burke's  British  Peerage.  As  they  say  in 
England,"  (the  doctor  rambled  on,)  " '  a  Senior 
Wrangler  is  born  with  a  gold  spoon  in  his 
mouth,  a  Senior  Optimo  with  a  silver  spoon, 
and  a  Junior  Optime  with  a  wooden  spoon,' 
—  which  may  be  the  most  valuable,  after 
all;  at  any  rate,  there  was  a  wooden  spoon 
in  your  family  once  that  was  worth  more 
than  five  hundred  gold  spoons.  I've  heard 
my  grandfather  tell  the  story  of  Captain  Sol- 
omon Hardee,  who  used  to  sail  a  merchant- 
man to  the  East  Indies  in  the  time  of  Queen 
Anne,  and  who  fell  in  with  pirates  and  lost 
all  he  had  except  a  fine  diamond  that  he  hid 
in  his  ear,  —  and  how,  when  he  was  alone 


COOLNESS  WINS.  33 

in  prison,  he  carved  that  wonderful  wooden 
spoon  (for  he  had  nothing  but  his  fingers 
to  feed  himself  with),  and  finally  concealed 
the  diamond  in  the  handle  of  the  spoon  so 
ingeniously  that  nobody  could  tell  where  it 
was  cut  and  joined;  and  he  kept  that  spoon 
with  the  diamond  in  it  till  he  died,  and 
never  told  the  secret  to  any  one  but  his 
granddaughter;  and  that  was  how  it  ever 
got  out,  I  suppose,  being  trusted  to  a  woman. 
Several  of  Solomon's  descendants  came  to 
America,  but  the  granddaughter,  who  mar- 
ried a  McGraw,  must  have  brought  the  spoon. 
There  used  to  be  some  McGraws^Jn  New 
Harbor,  and  I  have  always  thought  that 
when  I  had  leisure  I  would  like  to  — n 

Just  here  Nicholas  reached  his  boarding- 
place,  and  the  doctor  promised  to  tell  him 
more  some  other  time.  But  Nicholas  never 
called  on  him  for  any  more. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  neither  Pom 
3 


34  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

Nugent  nor  hia  father  gave  our  young  pre- 
ceptor any  further  trouble.  He  finished  his 
last  term  with  the  praise  and  hearty  friend* 
ship  of  parents  and  pupils,  and  was  sincerely 
regretted  when  he  went  away.  So  what  was 
said  in  the  last  chapter  of  "Nick  Hardy; 
or,  Once  in  Fun,  Twice  in  Earnest,"  was 
entirely  true.  The  year  he  spent  in  High* 
town  was  really  "one  of  the  pleasantest 
years  of  his  life." 


NICK  IS  EXAMINED,  AND  PLEDGED.          35 


CHAPTER   II. 

IN  WHICH   NICK   IS  EXAMINED,  AND  "PLEDGED." 

The  son  looked  golden  on  the  ivied  walls, 
And  jovial  greetings  shook  the  brown  old  halls, 
Where  high-throned  Learning  oped  her  awful  stores, 
And  apprehensive  Freshmen  thronged  the  doors. — ANON. 

T^TICHOLAS  HARDY  visited  New  York 
(for  the  first  time  in  his  life)  during 
the  summer  after  his  labors  closed  at  High- 
town.  He  thought  it  would  be  a  good  thing, 
before  entering  the  scholastic  lists  with  other 
young  Yankees  again,  to  see  for  once  the 
big  city  of  his  nation,  and  "  get  his  bearings," 
so  to  speak,  from  the  hub.  Besides,  he 
needed  certain  supplements  to  his  college 
outfit  which  could  be  purchased  in  New  York 


86  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

to  better  advantage  than  anywhere  else. 
At  the  depot,  when  about  to  leave  the  me- 
tropolis for  the  scene  of  his  first  great  ex- 
amination, he  noticed  quite  a  number  of 
striplings  with  carpet-bags,  who  looked,  he 
said,  "  exactly  as  he  felt,"  and  who,  he  could 
not  doubt,  were,  like  himself,  young  gentle- 
men intending  to  enter  college.  Of  course 
our  friend  Nick  sympathized  with  them  at 
once.  There  were  four  or  five  other  sharp, 
inquisitive-looking  youngsters  without  carpet- 
bags, but  with  great  heavy  canes  in  their 
hands,  whose  character  and  purpose  Nick 
at  first  felt  rather  uncertain  about.  They 
seemed  to  belong  together — at  least  a  stran- 
ger would  have  inferred  that  "some  of  them 
did" — but  they  made  themselves  promiscuous 
all  around,  and  were  especially  polite  to  the 
(supposed)  "  young  gentlemen  intending  to 
enter  college." 

All  these  noticeable  persons  —  the  young* 


NICK   IS   EXAMINED,    AND   PLEDGED.          37 

sters   with   carpet-bags   and  the   youngsters 
without  carpet-bags  —  boarded  the  train  be 
fore,  or  as  soon  as,  the  signal  sounded. 

Hardy's  seat-mate  was  a  small- sized,  pale, 
beardless  fellow,  with  very  light  hair,  and 
wearing  prim,  steel-bowed  glasses  on  his 
nose.  From  the  fact  that  he  had  a  carpet- 
bag, and  from  other  nameless  indications, 
Hardy  set  him  down  as  one  of  the  crowd  of 
prospective  Freshmen  as  a  matter  of  course. 
At  first  he  did  not  promise  to  be  very  soci- 
able, but  an  initial  question,  and  a  succession 
of  short,  suggestive  remarks  by  our  hero, 
drew  him  out,  and  after  that  he  talked  a  good 
deal. 

"  Going  to  New  Harbor  ?  " 

Naturally  enough  that  was  the  query  to 
begin  with.  And  the  beardless  young  man 
with  very  light  hair  and  steel-bowed  glasses 
answered,  "  Yes." 

As    the    conversation    proceeded,    Hardy 


38  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

found  his  companion  rather  dignified  and 
cautious,  but  what  he  did  say  about  college 
life  showed  a  knowledge  that  astonished  him. 
How  could  a  green,  unfledged  candidate  ever 
have  found  out  so  much?  Had  he  been 
"cramming "  ?  or  was  he  making  it  all  up, 
and  just  fooling  him  ? 

One  piece  of  information  Hardy  could 
prove  for  himself,  but  he  was  delighted  to 
receive  it  a  little  beforehand.  It  was  about 
those  inquisitive-looking  young  men  with  the 
great  heavy  canes. 

"They  are  runners  for  the  Adelphi  and 
Athenics,  the  two  leading  college  societies, 
out  for  their  annual  rival  canvass.  Pretty 
soon  some  of  them  will  be  along  here  and  try 
to  pledge  y —  to  pledge  us,"  said  the  pale 
young  man  with  the  glasses. 

Sure  enough,  he  had  hardly  done  speaking, 
when  one  of  the  heavy- caned  youths  came 
along  the  car  aisle,  and  stopped  opposite  their 
Beat. 


NICK   IS   EXAMINED,   AND   PLEDGED.          39 

"  I  presume  you  are  young  gentlemen 
about  to  enter  college?"  respectfully  touching 
his  hat. 

"Yes,  sir/'  said  Nick  promptly,  perhaps 
a  little  proudly. 

"  Are  you  pledged  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Nick. 

"  My  preference  is  for  the  Athenics,"  said 
the  pale  young  man  with  the  glasses,  bowing 
with  an  air  that  seemed  to  put  the  matter 
beyond  argument.  Thereupon  the  heavy- 
caned  youth  suddenly  lost  all  interest  in  him, 
and  gave  his  whole  attention  to  Hardy,  and 
for  the  next  five  minutes,  so  glibly  ran  his 
tongue,  Nick  must  have  listened  to  at  least 
five  pages  of  excellent  reasons  why  he  should 
join  the  Adelphi. 

There  was  a  droll  twinkle  in  the  pale 
young  man's  eyes,  behind  his  glasses.  Nick 
could  see  it  at  the  corners;  and  possibly  it 
hurt  the  effect  of  the  eloquence  he  was  just 


40  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

then  hearing.  He  finally  said  he  believed  he 
would  "  wait  awhile,  and  think  the  subject 
over;"  and  the  anxious  runner  passed  on, 
promising  to  "  see  him  again." 

Our  two  "  candidates "  had  not  time  to 
forget  his  visit  before  another  of  the  heavy- 
caned  fraternity  appeared,  and  stopped  be- 
side them  precisely  as  the  first  had  done. 

"  Young  gentlemen  intending  to  enter  col- 
lege?"—  interrogatively,  and  with  a  slight 
bow. 

Hardy  nodded. 

"  Are  you  pledged  ?  " 

The  sly  twinkle  in  the  pale  young  man's 
eyes,  behind  his  glasses,  now  broadened  for 
an  instant  almost  to  a  comical  glow. 

"  Not  very  lately,"  he  replied. 

Runner  No.  2  looked  at  him  sharply  as  if 
half  suspicious  that  he  was  quizzing  him. 
But  the  glasses  stared  straight  ahead,  and 
the  face  was  solemn  as  a  stone.  Runner 


NICK    IS   L'XAJiJNE.',    AA'D    PLEDGED.          41 

No.  2  resumed  his  "  cheek  "  at  once.  Hardy 
had  answered  "  no,"  of  course. 

"  Well,  then,  gentlemen,  it's  a  foregone 
conclusion  that  you'll  both  be  "Thenians  as 
soon  as  you  know  the  facts,"  quoth  he  of  the 
heavy  cane. 

"Will  you  give  me  your  names,  please?" 
taking  out  a  note-book. 

"  Nicholas  Hardy,  sir." 

"  My  name  is  Henry  Pondright,"  meekly 
answered  he  of  the  spectacles. 

And  thereupon  followed  about  five  pages 
of  excellent  reasons  why  Hardy  and  Pond- 
right  should  join  the  Athenics. 

"  Any  more  coming  ?  "  inquired  Nick,  when 
the  last  visitor  had  passed  on,  leaving  them 
still  unpledged,  but  promising  to  "  see  them 
again." 

"No  more,"  said  his  companion,  bursting 
into  a  laugh,  —  "not  till  you  get  to  New 
Harbor." 


42  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

They  reached  New  Harbor  at  last  amid  din 
of  engine-bells  and  discordant  shouts,  and 
rushing  crowds,  and  clouds  of  subterranean 
smoke. 

Hardy  was  promptly  on  his  feet,  but  when, 
he  turned  to  ask  another  question,  the  pale 
young  man  with  very  light  hair   and   steel- 
bowed  glasses  was  gone. 

"  Pandemonium  1  "  That  was  what  Nick 
said  to  himself  when  he  finally  elbowed  his 
way  out  of  the  car,  and  stepped  down  into 
the  hurly-burly  on  the  platform.  Sharp- 
looking  youngsters  with  big  canes  were  run- 
ning and  jumping  out  and  in  everywhere, 
and  four  of  them  beset  him,  one  before,  one 
behind,  and  one  at  each  ear,  asking  him  if  he 
was  "  pledged."  For  the  moment  he  heartily 
wished  he  was.  One  put  his  hand  on  his 
shoulder  and  inquired  if  he  had  friends  in 
the  city ;  another  caught  him  by  the  button 
and  wanted  to  know  at  what  hotel  he  in- 


NICK   IS   EXAMINED,   AND   PLEDGED.          43 

tended  to  put  up ;  another  offered  to  show 
him  the  way  to  the  examination-rooms;  an- 
other seized  his  carpet-bag  and  insisted  on 
carrying  it  for  him.  Finding  himself  unable 
to  answer  all  the  questions  at  once,  our  hero 
answered  none  of  them. 

Struggling  out  of  the  jam  around  the 
landings,  he  climbed  the  stairs,  and  by  the 
time  he  reached  the  street  he  had  parted  with 
most  of  his  too  friendly  persecutors  —  as  a 
horse  "  sheds "  his  flies  when  he  gets  out  of 
the  woods. 

Only  one  stuck  to  him,  an  enthusiastic 
'Delphian  Sophomore,  who  carried  his  car- 
pet-bag in  spite  of  him,  marched  him  up 
Meeting  Street  to  the  vicinity  of  the  col- 
leges, talking  as  fast  as  he  could  all  the 
way,  bundled  him  into  a  restaurant,  and 
dined  him  regardless  of  expense,  talking  of 
course  all  the  time,  and  then,  still  talking, 
waited  on  him  to  the  examination-rooms. 


44  THE   WOODEN    SPOON. 

That  Hardy  did  not  pledge  himself  to  that 
young  man's  society  was  a  wonder  of  firm- 
ness no  doubt. 

But  now  the  grand  trial  of  all  was  before 
him  —  though  it  depended  largely  on  himself 
whether  his  escape  from  the  society  runners 
into  the  ordeal  of  old  Cabinet  Building  would 
prove  a  leap  "  out  of  the  fat  into  the  fire." 
Scattered  about  the  dingy  place,  at  little 
tables,  he  saw  between  eighty  and  a  hundred 
distracted-looking  "  young  gentlemen  about 
to  enter  college  "  (if  they  could),  and,  moving 
here  and  there  and  everywhere  among  them, 
those  terribly  exact  men  who  snared  boys 
with  Greek  roots,  and  shut  them  up  in  Latin 
cases  and  subjunctive  moods,  and  impaled 
them  on  mathematical  points.  It  was  awful. 
But  there  was  a  queer  shock  iu  store  for  him, 
and  when  it  came,  strange  to  say,  it  set  him 
all  right  again.  Something  in  the  appearance 
of  one  of  the  examiners,  who  stood  leaning 


NICK  18  EXAMINED,    AND   PLEDGED.          45 

over  a  candidate,  scrutinizing  his  papers, 
caught  his  eye,  and  impressed  him  as  fa 
miliar.  As  he  straightened  up,  Nick,  to  his 
utter  amazement,  recognized  his  railway-car 
acquaintance,  the  little,  beardless,  pale  young 
man  with  very  light  hair  and  steel-bowed 
glasses  !  In  all  his  life,  Nick,  so  it  seemed 
to  him,  had  never  experienced  so  odd  a 
sensation  as  he  felt  at  that  moment.  Dread 
of  the  trial  before  him  was  the  only  thing 
that  kept  him  from  laughing. 

He  was  assured  afterwards  that  Tom 
Tracy,  the  cool  Sophomore  who  had  taken 
down  that  pale  young  man's  name  in  the  cars 
and  expected  to  pledge  him  to  the  Athenics, 
felt  a  still  odder  sensation,  when,  the  next 
'autumn,  he  walked  in  to  the  first  recitation  in 
logarithms,  and  saw  Tutor  Pondright,  the  new 
division  officer,  in  the  desk.  And  Tom  never 
heard  the  last  of  that  "  sell "  on  himself,  when 
the  story  leaked  out. 


40  THE    WOODEN   SPOON. 

At  the  instant  of  Nick's  comical  amaze- 
ment the  steel-bowed  glasses  turned  his  way. 
There  was  a  slight  bow,  and-  a  conscious 
mutual  smile.  That  and  nothing  more.  Bat 
our  hero's  confidence  was  completely  re- 
stored. He  was  among  men  after  all.  When 
the  examiners  came  and  set  him  his  ques- 
tions, he  saw  little  that  he  had  not  seen 
before.  He  had  made  good  use  of  his  books 
during  his  year  at  Hightown,  and  forgotten 
none  of  his  excellent  preparation.  His  marks 
were  far  above  average  when  he  had  done ; 
and  he  was  enrolled  for  matriculation. 

A  dozen  or  more,  Sophomores  and  Juniors, 
Adelphi  and  Athenic  men,  were  lying  in  wait 
outside  old  Cabinet  Building,  ready  to  seize 
the  Freshmen  as  fast  as  they  came  oat.  Nick 
was  taken  possession  of  by  the  talkative 
youth  who  had  carried  his  carpet-bag,  and 
one  or  two  other  Adelphians,  and  would  have 
been  borne  off  bodily  if  his  wit  and  cool 


NICK   IS    EXAMINED,    AND    PLEDGED.          47 

good-nature  had  not  suggested  a  way  to 
make  them  let  him  alone.  Joining  another 
Freshman  named  Hobart  Whately,  he  took 
a  turn  around  the  venerable  college  buildings, 
and  finally  seated  himself  with  his  companion 
in  a  position  which  commanded  a  view  of  the 
entrances  to  the  two  society  rooms.  Every 
few  minutes  runners  would  come  up  with 
new  "  victims  "  and  disappear  inside,  and  at 
their  safe  distance  Hardy  and  Whately 
watched  them  for  some  time.  Occasionally 
a  poor  fellow  standing  undecided,  like  a 
turkey  on  a  fence,  would  be  pulled  and 
hauled  by  electioneering  rivals  till  he  hardly 
dared  to  say  his  soul  was  his  own,  and  that 
part  of  it  was  sufficiently  amusing,  even  to 
one  who  expected  to  be  a  "  victim"  himself. 
Nick  was  in  no  hurry  just  now ;  but  it  was 
not  many  hours  before  he  knew  the  whole 
process,  and  could  indorse  every  word  of  the 
poet's  lines, — 


48  THE  WOODEN    SPOON. 

"  On  either  hand  in  solemn  conclave  met, 
The  veils  half  lifted,  and  the  man-traps  set, 
Crouched  spider-like  in  cloistered  watch  the  twain 
Contending  senates  of  a  new  '  campaign.' 
Each  on  his  chair  in  centre  of  command, 
With  skin-deep  smile  and  show  of  cordial  hand, 
The  reigning  Seniors,  'mid  their  chosen  corps, 
Flayed  the  deep  craft  and  planned  the  social  war; 
While,  ranged  before  their  several  dens  all  day, 
Th'  appointed  Gobblers,  trained  to  cover  prey, 
And  paid  with  hope  of  honors  for  the  year, 
Pothered  the  green-horns  at  each  tingling  ear. 

The  tyros  staggered  —  stall  the  Gobblers  plied, 
And  bored,  and  badgered  them  from  side  to  side, 
Till  cross-fire  suasion,  and  the  dire  duress 
O'ercame  —  and  half  by  knowledge,  half  by  guess, 
The  meek  novitiates,  sick  with  doubt  and  din, 
Like  sheep  to  slaughter,  right  or  left  rolled  in." 

Nick  Hardy,  as  I  said,  felt  in  no  hurry  to 
"  roll  m  "  himself.  He  had  got  his  first  taste 
of  college  politics,  and  though  he  had  already 
made  up  his  mind  which  of  the  societies  he 
should  join,  he  intended  to  go  ahead  no  faster 
than  he  could  know  what  he  was  doing,  and 


NICK- is  r:xA?nxrn,  .\\;r>  n 

» 
what  was  expected  of  him.      In  the  months 

that  followed  he  learned  to  value  the  many- 
real  benefits  of  these  college  societies — their 
literary  privileges,  their  facilities  for  personal 
improvement,  their  rhetorical  and  parliamen- 
tary drill;  and  even  in  the  harmless  warfare 
and  serio-burlesque  "  politics  "  and  hard  work 
of  the  annual  elections  and  canvassing  cam- 
paigns, he  took  an  active  part,  as  every 
manly  youth  may,  with  as  much  profit  as 
amusement. 

Having  been  told  that  it  was  desirable, 
if  not  necessary,  to  secure  a  boarding-place 
in  advance  of  the  Fall  term,  our  Freshman 
made  inquiries,  and  engaged  accommodations 
at  easy  distance ;  after  which,  having  still 
considerable  time  on  his  hands  (for  he  pur- 
posed to  spend  the  night  in  the  city),  he 
found  Hobart  Whately  again,  and  took  another 
stroll  around  the  college  buildings.  The  old 
Chapel,  the  Art  Gallery,  the  Laboratory,  the 
4 


50  THE   WOODEN   SPOON. 

Library,  the  Philosophical  Rooms,  the  Natural 
History  Collection,  were  all  in  turn  visited, 
and  last  of  all  the  two  found  themselves  on 
the  top  of  Minerva  Hall.  The  view  of  the 
grounds  below,  and  of  the  surrounding  city 
embowered  in  the  soft  foliage  of  its  elms,  was 

very  delightful  from  the  roof,  and  they  lin- 

• 

gered  there,  leaning  over  the  balustrades,  or 
walking  from  side  to  side  in  busy  conver- 
sation, till  the  sun  went  down.  Then  they 
concluded  they  would  go  down  too.  De- 
scending to  the  south  tower-door,  through 
which  they  had  come  up,  they  found  it 
locked ! 

"  Now,  here's  a  fix  for  us,"  quoth  Whately. 
"  How  we  shall  be  laughed  at  I " 

"  Who  cares  for  their  laughing,"  said 
Hardy.  "  The  main  point  with  us  now  is  to 
get  out.  Wonder  where  the  janitor  went  to." 

"  What  an  idea,  locking  the  door  at  sun- 
down, any  way  I "  said  Whately. 


NICK  IS  EXAMINED,   AND   PLEDGED.          51 

Both  ran  up  to  the  roof  again,  and  Hardy 
smiled  to  detect  himself,  involuntarily  looking 
round  for  a  scuttle-hole.  No  way  of  escape 
appeared.  There  was  nothing  left  for  them 
but  to  shout  down  for  help.  Numbers  of  per- 
sons were  crossing  the  grounds  and  passing 
in  the  street. 

"  Say  1  Send  the  man  with  the  key  to 
unlock  that  tower-door,  will  you  ?  " 

Some  chaffing,  and  considerable  laughter 
came  up  from  below  before  they  got  any 
direct  response.  Finally  a  voice  cried, — 

"  Hold  on  1  Don't  throw  yourself  over ! 
I'm  coming  with  the  key." 

They  went  down  and  waited  a  long  time  at 
the  door  till  they  concluded  they  were  being 
humbugged;  but  at  last  they  heard  steps 
ascending  the  stairs.  Then  some  one  shouted 
through  the  key-hole,  "Are  you  pledged?" 

It  was  the  voice  of  an  enterprising  Athe- 
nian. He  had  comprehended  the  situation, 


52  THE    WOODEN    SPOON. 

and  taken  it  upon  himself  to  play  warder. 
The  Freshmen  could  not  help  feeling  indig- 
nant. 

"  No ;  bother  your  pledge  1  But  will  you 
let  us  out  ?  "  said  Whately. 

"  Pledge  yourselves  to  the  Athenics,  and 
out  you  go ;  if  not,  no." 

"  Very  well,"  quoth  Hardy ;  "  then  I  think 
I'll  spend  the  night  up  here ;  "  and  he  turned 
to  go  up  the  tower-stairs,  leaving  his  com- 
panion to  continue,  the  parley  if  he  chose. 
The  parley  was  evidently  continued  to  some 
purpose,  for  just  as  Nick  was  about  to  shout 
for  some  one  to  send  the  janitor,  he  heard 
Whately's  voice  calling  up  amid  roars  of 
laughter,  — 

"  Say,  Hardy  !    Are  you  pledged  ?  " 

"Yes,"  sung  out  Hardy  with  all  the 
strength  of  his  lungs,  and,  starting  to  return, 
he  met  the  volunteer  turnkey  with  Whately 
and  half  a  dozen  Sophomores,  all  convulsed 


NICK  is  EX.\:,nx::r>,  AND  PLEDGED.        53 

with  merriment  over  the  joke,  for  Whately 
had  actually  been  pledged  before  the  door 
was  opened.  He  declared,  however  (greatly 
to  the  mirth  of  the  rest,  of  course),  that  he 
had  made  up  his  mind  long  before.  Of  Hardy 
certainly  that  assertion  was  quite  true.  Both 
he  and  Whately  joined  the  Athenics  that 
evening,  and  in  the  grand  jollification  meeting 
held  in  the  Society  Hall,  Hardy  gave  a  gro- 
tesque account  of  the  adventure  in  the  tower, 
and  its  results,  that  called  forth  screams  of 
applause  and  laughter. 

Linus  Dartford,  who  opened  the  tower- 
door,  was  a  Junior,  a  good  fellow,  but  a  joker 
who  relished  nothing  more  keenly  than  to 
"  take  a  Freshman  in."  He  and  Hardy  were 
always  on  familiar  terms  after  that  evening, 
and  often,  when  there  was  any  banter  be- 
tween them,  Hardy  would  jocosely  accuse 
him  of  being  the  one  who  locked  the  door,  aa 
well  as  the  one  who  unlocked  it. 


54  THE   WOODEN   BPOOH. 


CHAPTER 

IN  WHICH    NICK  IS  SHAKEN  UP  AND  TESTED 

How  should  he  role  himself  in  ghostly  health 

Who  never  learned  one  lesson  for  the  same  ?  —  OLD  FLAT. 

Whipping!    That's  virtue's  governess, 

Tutoress  of  arts  and  sciences ; 

That  mends  the  gross  mistakes  of  nature ; 


That  lavs  foundation  for  renown, 

And  all  the  honors  of  the  gown.  —  HDDEBRAS. 

T  TAVE    you    seen    my    Sidney?" 

Now  Hardy  did  not  know  "Sidney" 
from  Adam  or  Julius  Csesar,  and  consequently 
could  not  have  identified  him  if  he  had  met 
him  in  a  dozen  places.  He  might  have  "  seen 
Sidney,"  and  he  might  not.  And  when  Mrs. 
Hinnipick,  his  landlady,  hurled  that  question 


NICE  13  SHAKEN  UP  AND  TESTED.  55 

at  him  across  the  dinner-table,  as  her  first 
greeting  on  his  arrival  in  the  city  at  the 
commencement  of  the  college  term,  he  was 
considerably  taken  aback.  He  liked  to  be 
asked  questions  that  he  could  answer.  He 
could  not  answer  that,  and  he  told  Mrs. 
Hinnipick  so. 

"  He  did  not  come  home  last  night,  and  he 
wasn't  here  to  breakfast  this  morning,"  said 
Mrs.  Hinnipick,  with  a  worried  look. 

Hardy  made  some  commiserating  remark, 
as  his  gentlemanly  duty  required,  of  course, 
and  meanwhile  glanced  at  the  other  boarders, 
eight  young  men,  mostly  strangers.  There 
was  a  comical  expression  on  all  their  faces, 
and  some  of  them  appeared  to  be  trying 
very  hard  to  keep  sober.  The  efforts  of  one 
youngster  in  that  line  —  a  stocky,  stubby 
little  fellow  whose  name  was  Proctor  (shrunk 
afterwards  to  Proc)  —  had  turned  him  as  red 
as  a  turkey.  Proc  had  a  habit  of  swelling  up 


56  THE  WOODEN    SPOON. 

and  turning  red  whenever  he  was  holding 
more  fun  than  he  could  carry,  and  he  could 
seldom  save  himself,  even  in  polite  company, 
without  breaking  out  in  a  little  cackling 
laugh,  so  that  he  came  to  be  called  "  Snick- 
erby "  by  his  classmates  quite  as  often  as 
anything  else. 

The  boarders  were  all  Freshmen,  as  Hardy 
soon  learned.  Mrs.  Hinnipick  had  but  lately 
undertaken  the  boarding  business,  and  she 
had  her  own  reasons  for  selecting  new  Fresh- 
men, as  likely  to  be  more  quiet,  meek,  and 
manageable  than  members  of  the  higher 
classes.  Perhaps  she  chose  wisely ;  but/ 
judging  from  present  indications,  the  meek 
propriety,  and  strict,  courteous  gravity  of 
her  guests  were  destined  to  be  put  to  some 
severe  strains.  Mrs.  Hinnipick  had  asked 
every  one  of  them  the  same  question  about 
her  "  Sidney,"  and,  with  the  exception  of  two, 
who  had  arrived  a  day  sooner  than  the  rest, 


NICK  IS  SHAKEN   UP   AND   TESTED.  57 

not  a  soul  of  them  yet  knew  "Sidney"  by 
sight.  Boys  in  feeling  as  they  still  were, 
it  was  only  the  ludicrous  side  of  the  mother's 
anxiety  in  the  case  that  struck  them;  and  our 
hero  could  not  wholly  resist  the  queer  con- 
tagion. If  he  could  he  would  not  have  been 
Nick  Hardy.  Mrs.  Hinnipick's  unceremonious 
way  of  catching  up  a  fellow  and  pinning  him 
in  her  domestic  catechism  before  he  had  a 
chance  to  say  "  How-do-you-do,  I-hope-I-see- 
you-well/'  or  to  shake  hands,  or  even  to  know 
who  "  Sidney  "  was,  impressed  "him,  if  pos- 
sible, even  more  absurdly  than  it  had  the 
others ;  and  besides,  taking  his  cue  from 
their  looks,  he  inferred  that  there  could  be 
nothing  very  serious  the  matter  with  the 
landlady's  sou. 

"  He  had  two  lessons  to  give  in  Germany 
Row,  and  one  in  Savin  Street,  and  he  thought 
he  might  attend  Professor  Stombacher's  organ 
exhibition,"  said  Mrs.  Hinnipick ;  for  though 


58  THE  WOODEN   SPOON. 

the  dinner  progressed  (and  it  was  a  good 
one),  and  the  Freshmen  talked  about  con- 
cerns of  their  own  so  as  to  have  a  polite 
excuse  for  smiling,  the  good  lady  would  not 
let  them  forget  the  subject  that  was  most 
on  her  mind. 

"  Is  it  an  unusual  thing  for  your  son  to  be 
absent  such  a  length  of  time,  Mrs.  Hinni- 
pick  ?  "  inquired  Matt  Calvin,  a  wag,  severely 
straightening  his  face. 

"Unusual,  yes;  but  sometimes,  you  know, 
he  — "  began  Mrs.  Hinnipick  volubly,  but 
just  then  the  opening  door  cut  her  short. 
Suddenly  entered  a  little  sleek,  long-haired 
young  man,  and  made  a  rush  for  the  head 
of  the  table.  Simultaneously  Mrs.  Hinnipiek 
made  a  rush  for  him,  dropping  the  spoon  she 
was  serving  with,  and  upsetting  the  pudding- 
sauce. 

"  O  Sidney,  my  son,  you  have  come  1  "  she 
cried,  throwing  her  arms  around  his  neck. 


NICK  IS  SHAKEN  UP  AND  TESTED.  59 

"Do  yon  know  how  I  have  worried  and 
worried  ?  Where  could  you  have  b — " 

"  There,  there,  mother ;  Tm  hungry,"  pro- 
tested Sidney,  getting  into  his  chair  as 
quick  as  he  could,  and  looking  sheepishly  at 
the  tremendously  amused  faces  of  the  nine 
strangers. 

His  affectionate  reception  before  so  many 
witnesses,  evidently  abashed  him  a  good  deal; 
and  besides,  Proc's  overloaded  risibles  just 
then  went  off  in  a  loud  snicker,  which  the 
young  man  could  not  fail  to  hear.  Mrs.  Hin- 
nipick's  fond  questions  and  doting  attentions, 
and  Sidney's  efforts  to  parry  them,  completed 
the  comicality  of  the  scene,  and  the  well- 
mannered  Freshmen  in  vain  tried  to  head  off 
the  gathering  laughter  by  plunging  into  a 
profound  discussion  of  the  Crimean  War  and 
the  possible  consequences  if  the  Kussian  Bear 
finally  swallowed  the  sick  Turkey.  Poor 
Proc  wanted  to  explode  again  so  badly  that 


60  THE   WOODEN   SPOON. 

he  finally  had  to  leave  his  pudding  and  get 
up  and  go  out.  The  "  war  "  discussion 
flagged  miserably,  whereat  our  friend  Nick, 
coming  to  the  rescue,  told  the  Minerva  Hall 
story  again,  and  under  cover  of  that  the 
company  indulged  in  the  roar  they  had  been 
aching  for.  Dinner  over,  they  all  went  out, 
and  found  "  Snickerby "  waiting  for  them, 
still  holding  his  sides.  At  least  there  were 
nine  Freshmen  thoroughly  acquainted  with 
each  other  now.  The  causes  which  made 
their  first  dinner  together  ridiculous  had 
brought  about  that  result,  without  costing 
anything.  And  so  we  will  leave  Sidney 
to  explain  to  his  mother,  in  private,  where 
he  had  been,  and  what  he  had  been  doing. 


Nick  Hardy  had  left  New  Harbor,  after  hia 
examination,  without  staying  to  Commence- 
ment. There  would  be  opportunities  enough 
in  after  years  to  witness  the  performances  of 


NICK  18  SHAKEN   UP  AND  TESTED.  61 

that  grand  day.  A  week  of  his  vacation  he 
had  spent  at  Fenwick  Falls,  helping  his  sister 
Jane  (who  was  now  teaching  the  district 
school)  in  such  studies  as  she  had  begun,  and 
lending  a  hand  wherever  he  could  be  of  use 
to  his  hard-working  parents  and  the  rest 
of  the  family.  His  father  had  got  through 
calling  him  "  good-for-nothing,"  and  "  born- 
to-be-hung."  His  brother  Silas  had  not  yet 
been  heard  from,  though  four  years  had 
passed  since  he  went  (or  was  supposed  to 
go)  to  California. 

Nicholas'  week  at  the  Falls  included  also 
a  short  visit  to  Squire  Gammel  at  Fenwick 
Village,  and  his  former  teachers  at  the 
Academy. 

The  remainder  of  our  brevet-Freshman's 
summer  timS  was  devoted  to  steady  farm 
work,  with  Uncle  Ben  James  in  his  Stonefield 
home. 

He   came   now  to  his   college   tasks  with 


62  THE   WOODEN    SPOON. 

toughened  muscles  and  a  clear  brain,  ready 
to  undertake  any  reasonable  amount  of  study, 
and,  better  than  all,  with  upright  principles, 
a  sound  heart,  and  a  mind  of  his  own,  that 
made  him  quite  aa  difficult  a  customer  for 
enticers  to  seduce  as  he  was  for  blackguards 
and  bullies  to  handle.  His  first  recitations 
were  triumphs,  and  once  master  of  his  busi- 
ness, and  familiar  to  university  routine,  he 
marched  upon  Euclid,  and  Horace,  and  "  Bal- 
bus,"  and  "  Sophroniscus,"  and  every  other 
formidable  work  in  his  way,  with  a  vigor 
that  carried  all  before  it. 

No  sooner  was  the  excitement  of  recruiting 
season  over  with  the  two  great  rival  societies 
than  the  more  quiet  work  of  roping  in  new 
members  for  the  secret  societies  commenced. 
In  most  of  the  large  colleges"  every  class 
has  its  secret  society  or  societies,  and,  of 
course,  electioneers  for  its  own,  the  retiring 
members  of  each  year  aiming  to  get  into  their 


NICE  IS  SHAKEN  UP  AND  TESTED.  63 

places  as  many  as  they  can  from  the  clasa 
next  below  them.  The  liveliest  business  of 
this  kind  is  usually  the  gathering  in  and 
initiating  the  Freshmen  by  the  Sophomores. 
Hardy  was  confidentially  button-holed  sev- 
eral times  by  the  leaders  in  both  Phi  Gamma 
and  Delta  Rho*  without  much  effect.  These 
affairs  were  all  conjury  to  him,  being  a  new 
man.  But  meeting  Linus  Dartford,  who  had 
belonged  to  Phi  Gamma  in  his  Freshman 
days,  and  being  asked  what  he  intended  to 
do,  he  waited  to  hear  that  condescending 
Junior's  explanations,  .and  concluded  to  take 
his  advice.  He  was  duly  booked  as  a  Phi 
Gamma  man.  So  also  were  Whately,  Cal- 
vin, and  Proc,  his  new  friends  and  fellow- 
boarders. 

"  Initiation  night,"  the  unique  novelty  of 

*  Names  of  the  two  Freshman  secret  societies,  formed  of 
letters  of  the  Greek  alphabet,  being  the  initials  of  somi 
"  mystic  "  phrase. 


64  THE   WOODEN   SPOON. 

average  Freshman  experience  (  "  uniquity  " 
Hardy  subsequently  called  it,  in  humorous 
suggestion  of  a  more  familiar  word),  soon 
came,  with  its  climax  of  mysterious  prepara-> 
tions ;  and  notice  was  served  on  the  candi- 
dates to  present  themselves  in  the  third-story 
entry  of  Breed's  Building,  at  9  o'clock  p.  M. 
Promptly  at  the  hour  Hardy  was  on  hand 
with  the  others;  and  the  noises  that  came 
from  within  satisfied  him  that  he  had  not 
guessed  too  wildly  what  was  coming,  for  he 
had  caught  au  inkling  of  these  secret  cere- 
monies, and  of  the  way  candidates  were 
put  through,  from  vague  hints  accidentally 
dropped  in  his  hearing. 

Before  he  and  his  associates  had  time  to 
consider  the  situation,  or  compare  impres- 
sions, six  tall  goblins  rushed  out,  some  in  red, 
some  in  black,  some  in  yellow,  some  with 
horns  and  tails,  all  wearing  demon  masks, 
and  in  a  trice  he  found  himself  blindfolded 


NICK  IS  SHAKEN  UP   AND   TESTED.  65 

and  hustled  off  through  a  long  passage  that 
seemed  to  run  down  an  inclined  plane,  and 
smelt  of  brimstone  like  a  veritable  descensus 
Averni.  Our  friend  Nick  had  made  up  his 
mind  to  "  see  the  thing  through,"  and  had 
no  idea  of  offering  resistance,  as  some  of  the 
Freshmen  did  that  night,  who  were  foolish 
enough  to  forget  that  their  consent  to  join 
a  secret  society  implied  submission  to  be 
tumbled  into  it  in  whatever  rough  way  the 
custom  might  be.  On  and  on  he  went,  the 
two  muscular  goblins  who  had  him  in  charge 
griping  him  fast  by  his  arms;  round  flying 
corners,  down  winding  stairs,  up  winding 
stairs,  along  low  galleries  musty  with  mould, 
by  doors  that  belched  out  gunpowder  smoke, 
through  spaces  that  echoed  with  strange 
whispers  and  ghostly  groans,  under  floors 
that  rumbled  with  mimic  thunder,  till  it 
seemed  to  him  as  if  he  had  travelled  a  mile, 
when  suddenly  he  felt  a  crowd  around  him, 
5 


66  THE  WOODEN   SPOON. 

and  the  bandage  was  snatched  from  his  eyes. 
He  had  reached  the  penetralia  of  mock 
terrors.  Blue  lights  were  burning  every- 
where, and  "  demons  "  in  every  possible  va- 
riety of  horrible  masquerade  greeted  him 
with  salutatory  bellowings,  and  pinched  and 
pulled  and  hauled  Irim  till  he  began  to  think 
they  would  strip  off  all  his  clothes. 

Then  his  hands  were  tied  behind  him,  and 
he  found  himself  standing  in  front  of  some- 
thing rigged  up  like  a  judgment  bench,  on 
which  an  owl-faced,  nondescript-looking  being 
sat  in  scowling  dignity,  flanked  by  two  gob- 
lin guards  in  horned  hats  three  feet  high,  and 
holding  pitchforks  in  their  hands.  There  was 
a  moment's  silence,  and  a  deep  voice  said, 
u  Freshman  1  canst  thou  take  the  irrevocable 
oath?" 

"  I  can,"  replied  Nick,  wondering-  to  him- 
self if  he  looked  as  pale  and  scared  as  it  was 
proper  to  look. 


NICK  IS  SHAKEN  UP  AND   TESTED.  67 

"  Then  kiss  the  iron  book  !  "  said  the  same 
deep  voice,  and  the   echo   ran  around,  bel 
lowing,   groaning,   croaking  through  all  the 
notes  of  the  gamut :  "  Kiss  the  Iron  Book  I  " 

Nick  was  led  forward  a  step  or  two,  and 
stooped  to  kiss  the  iron  book,  when  quick  aa 
thought  a  sharp  shock  threw  him  flat  on  the 
floor.  (It  was  a  dry  night,  and  the  electric 
battery  worked  to  a  charm.) 

Yells  of  derision  rose  on  every  side,  and 
hollow  voices  howled,  "  Take  him  away  I  He 
can't  take  the  oath.  Put  him  in  the  cradle ! " 
and  in  an  incredibly  short  space  of  time  our 
hero  was  bundled  heels  over  head  into  a 
truck  like  an  inverted  hencoop,  and  whirled 
out  of  the  presence-room  into  a  dark  hall  that 
seemed  to  end  nowhere  in  particular,  to  take 
his  "cradle-ride."  Rush,  crash,  clatter,  rat 
tlety-bang,  the  strange  vehicle  went,  over 
lumber,  rubbish,  and  sticks  of  wood,  Nick 
lying  all  sides  up  at  once,  and  shutting  his 


68  THE   WOODEN   SPOON. 

mouth  tight  to  keep  his  teeth  in  hib  head. 
Would  it  never  stop  ?  If  his  walk  was  a  mile 
long,  surely,  he  thought,  his  ride  must  have 
been  two.  0,  the  rocking,  and  the  knocking, 
and  bumping  and  thumping,  that  he  got  in 
that  two-wheeled  cradle  !  It  stopped  as  sud- 
denly as  it  started;  and  before  Nick  could 
fairly  decide  whether  he  was  horizontal  or 
perpendicular,  he  was  chucked  into  a  closet 
and  left  there  to  settle  the  question.  The 
closet  was  pitch-dark,  and  written  in  letters 
of  fire  on  the  inside  of  the  door  he  read  this 
cheerful  notice: 

THE    BEGINNING    OF    HORRORS! 

(The  phosphorus  was  evaporating  pretty 
rapidly,  however,  and  the  letters  were  fading 
out.) 

After  some  delay  the  door  was  thrown 
open,  and  one  of  his  goblin  guides  seized  him 
by  the  collar  with  the  terrible  command, 
"  Gome  forth  from  the  Adytum  1  Further 
mysteries  await  yon  I " 


NICK  IS  SHAKEN   UP  AND  TESTED.  69 

In  a  moment  he  was  dragged  into  another 
hideous  scene  of  blue  lights  and  howling 
maskers,  and  delivered  over  to  the  Persona 
Mortis,  a  long-legged  fellow  dressed  like  a 
skeleton.  In  this  individual's  hands  he  took 
his  first  lesson  in  witch-dancing.  Thrust  into 
the  middle  of  a  weird  circle  of  figures  that 
hopped  about  and  threw  things  into  "  the 
mystic  caldron  "  (a  huge  tub  disguised  with 
black  paint),  and  caterwauled  the  incantation 
in  Macbeth  — 

"  Liver  of  blaspheming  Jew, 
Gall  of  goat,  and  slips  of  yew, 
Slivered  in  the  moon's  eclipse, 
Nose  of  Turk,  and  Tartar's  lips," 

and  the  rest  of  it,  he  began  to  go  round, 
willy-nilly,  with  the  chanters,  when,  presto ! 
he  was  caught  by  the  heels  behind  and 
pitched  into  the  caldron  himself. 

"All  right,"  thought  Nick;  "am  I  consid- 
ered a  piece  of  a  Jew,  or  a  Turk,  or  a 
Tartar  —  which  ?" 


70  THE   WOODEN   SPOON. 

He  was  just  yielding  to  a  strong  temptation 
to  be  a  Tartar,  when  somebody  "  stirred  him 
up "  with  a  wooden  spoon  as  big  as  a  coal- 
heaver's  shovel,  and  the  next  instant  he  was 
ladled  out  on  the  same  spoon  amid  cries  of, 
u  He's  done ;  he's  did ;  he'll  do ! "  But  what, 
what  now?  No  sooner  did  his  feet  touch  the 
floor  than  he  felt  a  trap-door  give  way  be- 
neath him,  and  down  he  went  like  the  ham- 
mer of  a  pile-driver !  In  a  second  he  struck 
something  soft,  and  bounded  so  high  that  he 
fully  believed  he  was  going  to  be  shot  back 
through  the  floor  where  he  fell.  That  was 
the  "  grand  bounce ; "  and  when  the  Sopho- 
mores down-stairs  had  finished  tossing  him  in 
the  blanket,  he  was  presented  before  another 
sort  of  tribunal,  where  a  monstrous  official 
with  a  bear's  head,  and  wearing  a  tremendous 
pair  of  spectacles,  asked  questions  and  gave 
advice.  Here  he  found  several  candidates 
besides  himself,  who  had  been  similarly  put 


NICK  IS  SHAKEN  UP  AND  TESTED.  71 

through,  and  the  mock  Rhadamanthus  ad- 
dressed them  all  together  in  an  absurd  jumble 
of  macaronic  Latin-English. 

"  0  tirones,  recenti  out  of  your  cradles ; 
bound  to  be  plucked  et  bamboozlendi — " 

Or,  "  Fresh  homines,  nuper  matrium  apron- 
strings  erupti ;  qui  come  to  Academian  nt 
studeatis  Euclid,  preterea  eat  hash  ;  quoa 
kickaturi  undique  Sophomores'  boots — " 

Or,  "  Pueri  innocentes !  qui  think  omnium 
scholasticum  some  pumpkins,  et  quisque  col- 
lege rub-a-dub  great  shakes ;  intuemini,  con- 
tuemini,  mind  your  eye  !  Cave  tutores.  cave 
Juniores,  cave  virgines,  cave  peanuts  and  pop 
beer !  nisi  you  want  tremendus  Prex  after 
you  cum  sharp  stick,  aut  toti  Faculty  baculis 
broomstickorum,"  and  so  on. 

When  the  scene  changed  again,  Nick  and 
his  companions  found  themselves  in  a  hand- 
some but  not  very  large  hall,  where  a  small 
company  of  Sophomores,  and  a  scattering  of 


72  THE    WOODEN   SPOON. 

Juniors,  apparently  waiting  in  session,  rose 
on  their  entrance,  and  greeted  them  with 
cheers.  This  was  the  meeting-chamber  of 
the  Phi  Gammas,  and  when  the  not  very  com- 
plex ceremony  of  "  swearing  in "  and  sub- 
scribing their  names  was  over  with,  each  new 
member  was  called  on  for  a  speech.  Nick's 
speech  was  a  short  one,  but  it  was  exceed- 
ingly well  received ;  and  his  serio-comic  con- 
fession, "  My  shaking-up  this  evening  has  set- 
tled me  to  the  bottom,  the  best  place  in  the 
world  to  rise  from.  Whatever  self-conceit  I 
had  has  all  been  jolted  out  of  me  to-night. 
1  came  in  as  big  as  anybody,  but  there's 
nothing  left  of  me  now  but  a  wooden  spoon- 
ful," was  hailed  with  vociferous  applause. 

There  was  a  cry  for  the  Juniors  after  the 
new  members  had  said  their  say,  and  while 
the  society  was  waiting  for  another  squad  of 
Freshmen  to  come  in ;  but  only  one  of  them 
responded,  and  that  was  Linus  Dartford.  He 


NICK   IS   SHAKEN   UP   AND   TESTED.  73 

congratulated  the  society,  and  paid  Nick 
gome  generous  compliments.  "  I  should  know 
by  his  looks,"  said  he,  "  that  the  young 
brother  would  measure  himself  as  modestly  as 
he  has  to-night,  and  that  he  would  very  soon 
outgrow  his  own  measure,  too.  He  has  begun 
his  college  life  in  the  bowl  of  the  wooden 
spoon,  but  that  measure  can't  hold  that  kind 
of  man.  He'll  run  over  the  wooden  spoon 
before  he's  a  Sophomore,  and  by  the  time 
he's  a  Junior  there'll  be  enough  of  him  to 
pass  round  to  all  the  Phi  Gamma  Freshmen 
of  the  third  generation." 

When  all  the  "mystic  rites"  were  over,  and 
the  society  broke  up  for  the  night,  a  Sopho- 
more fastened  himself  to  Nick,  and  hinted 
very  broadly  that  he  would  be  expected  to 
« treat." 

"  Very  well;  come  on,  and  I'll  pay  for  the 
oysters  willingly,"  said  Nick.  "  I'm  hungry 
myself." 


74  THE  WOODEN    SPOON. 

"  But,"  said  the  Soph,  "  don't  you  know  I'm 
the  fellow  that  put  you  through.  It's  al- 
ways the  Freshman's  treat." 

" Well,  if  you  mean  liquor"  replied  Nick, 
"  that's  something  I  never  drink,  nor  help 
anybody  else  to  drink.  I'm  with  you  till  you 
come  to  that ;  then  I  stop." 

Somehow  the  Soph  seemed  to  conclude 
that  he  had  got  hold  of  the  wrong  man  at  that 
moment,  for  suddenly  remarking,  "  O,  you 
aren't  the  chap,  after  all/'  he  started  off  to 
find  some  other  Freshman  whom  he  had  "  put 
through ;  "  and  Nick,  foregoing  his  oysters, 
went  home  to  bed. 


MIND  AND  MUSCLE.  '     75 


CHAPTER   IV. 

MIND    AND    MUSCLE. 

"My  heart  swells  high  and  burns  for  the  encounter; 
Let  us  on!"  BROOKE. 

"i"">Y  the  end  of  the  first  month  of  Fresh- 
man year  Nick  Hardy's  class  had  be- 
come so  far  interested  together  by  mutual 
acquaintance,  and  a  common  spirit  and  pur- 
pose, that  they  could  be  called  "  organized." 
The  natural  leaders  took  their  places  by  tacit 
consent,  the  best  men  of  muscle  and  the 
best  men  of  mind  had  been  found  out,  and 
the  orators  and  poets-  duly  marked  and 
credited. 

In  the  old  Hermeum,  which  had  been  the 
Freshmen's  headquarters  for  more  than  a 
quarter  of  a  century,  —  being  one  of  the 


76  THE   WOODEN  SPOON. 

most  ancient  of  the  college  buildings  with 
recitation-rooms,  —  a  meeting  of  the  class  was 
held  about  this  time,  at  which  every  member 
was  present,  and  apparently  boiling  over 
with  some  recent  enthusiasm.  It  was  the 
first  really  full  rally  of  the  new  class,  and 
it  might  be  expected  that  all  the  members 
destined  to  be  prominent  would  phow  off 
their  characteristic  points.  Heman  Timothy, 
the  giant  of  the  class  (in  physical  size),  was 
the  chairman,  and  he  made  a  gorgeous  open- 
ing speech.  "  Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "  accord- 
ing to  long  custom,  it  falls  to  us  in  turn  to 
throw  down  the  gauntlet  for  the  great  an- 
nual contest  between  the  Freshmen  and  the 
Sophomores.  We  are  ready,  and  we  have 
met  here  to  do  it.  £CJieers.~\  Gentlemen,  it 
is  well  known  that  in  this  (rial  we  do  not 
meet  our  adversaries  on  fair  and  equal  terms. 
They  are  experts.  They  have  fought  one 
battle  before.  But  we  new  men  can  match 


MIND   AND   MUSCLE.  77 

them  in  strength  [cheers]  and  size  [vociferous 
hurralis  for  the  big  chairman'] ,  and  more  than 
match  them  in  numbers  and  courage  [thun- 
ders of  applause]  ;  and,  in  the  eloquent  lan- 
guage of  the  great  -  Agamemnon,  '  Who's 
afraid  ?  '  [violent  stamping  and  loud  laughter."] 
We  defy  their  superior  skill  [three  hurrahs 
and  a  '  tiger '  ]  ;  and  remember,  gentlemen, 
that  if  we  beat  them  with  this^odds  against 
us  we  cover  ourselves  with  glory !  [deafen- 
ing applause.]  If  we  fail  [cries  of  no,  no  /]  — 
if  we  fall  under  in  the  fight,  it  will  be  like 
the  torpedo  under  the  man-of-war  [noise  and 
great  sensation] ;  there  won't  be  enough  left 
of  them  to  brag  of  their  victory  "  [tremen- 
dous uproar]. 

Next  came  the  fine  orators  of  the  class, 
as  they  were  eagerly  called  up  one  by  one. 
It  was  an  hour  to  "  kindle  brave  souls,"  Hal 
Stanley  said.  They  were  soon  to  call  into 
the  field  a  haughty  foe.  It  was  theirs  to 


78  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

wring  from  them  a  reluctant  respect  or  earn 
their  contempt  by  yielding  them  the  only 
advantage  in  the  strife.  "From  these  gray 
walls  more  than  a  hundred  years  will  watch 
and  witness  our  deeds,  and  bright  honors 
in  story  and  song  wait  on  our  success.  Lot 
us  meet  our  adversaries  with  a  firm  and 
gallant  front,  and  when  upon  them 

•Our  host  moves  like  a  deep-sea  wave,' 

let  every  man  weigh  a  ton  for  his  class, 
and  the  shock  of  the  encounter  will  be  but 
the  signal  for  their  overthrow  "  [three  cheers], 

Willard  Faunce  fired  the  Freshman  heart 
still  further  with  suggestions  to  "  Hang  out 
our  banners  on  the  outer  wall ! "  and  woke 
a  responsive  yell  with  the  sanguine  exhor- 
tation to  "  Cry  havoc,  and  let  slip  the  dogs 
of  war ! " 

Then  there  was  a  general  call  for  spindle- 
shanked  Barkenhead,  and  his  expected  allu- 
sions to  his  legs  of  course  threw  the  crowd 


MIND   AND  MUSCLE.  79 

into  convulsions  of  noisy  merriment.  "  The 
Sophomores  consider  us  insects,"  he  said, 
pointing  to  the  big  chairman  amid  deafening 
laughter.  "  They'll  think  us  earthquakes 
when  such  horn-bugs  of  the  first  magnitude 
get  hold  of  them.  Let  them  meet  us,  and 
our  hornets,  and  gallinippers,  and  daddy-long- 
legses  {uproar  and  great  fun]  will  run  over 
them  worse  than  the  flies  of  Egypt  or  the 
locusts  of  Arabia !  "  and  he  concluded  with 
an  unconditional  offer  of  his  own  legs  for 
the  good  of  the  class. 

Cries  of  "  Hardy,  Hardy  !  "  brought  out  onr 
hero  Nick  long  enough  to  say  that  he  was 
not  much  of  a  talker,  but  that  he  meant 
business,  and  if  the  class  would  put  him 
somewhere  near  the  "  apex  of  the  wedge " 
on  battle-day,  they'd  find  (and  the  Sopho- 
mores too)  that  he  would  "count  thirty-six 
inches  to  the  yard,  and  sixteen  ounces  to 


80  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

the  pound,  and  four  pecks  to  the  bushel." 
["  (rood,  good  I  "  and  great  commotion.] 

A  shout  for  "  Tolman ! "  called  to  his  feet 
a  stout  fellow  who  had  been  a  member  of 
the  Sophomore  class  for  a  few  months  the 
year  before,  and  some  misgivings  were  felt 
about  his  loyalty.  He  was  wanted  for  an 
explanation. 

He  had  loaded  hia  heart  twice,  he  said, 
like  the  Irishman's  gun  ;  but  he  was  all 
right.  He  had  "  rammed  down  the  new- 
class  powder  on  top  of  the  old,"  and  the 
"  Freshman  wad  "  would  go  off  first,  even 
if  he  had  to  get  hurt.  And  the  stamping 
and  cheering  when  he  sat  down  showed  that 
his  explanation  was  satisfactory. 

Then  everybody  screamed  for  "  Proc ! 
Proc  !  Snickerby  !  Speech  from  Proc  ! " 
But  Proc  only  swelled  up  and  turned  red, 
and  cackled.  No  one  supposed  he  would 
make  a  speech  ;  but  it  was  good  fun  to 


MIND   AND  MUSCLE.  81 

shout  for  him,  and  it  was  well  known  that 
he  would  fight  like  a  badger  when  the  time 
came  to  defend  his  class. 

Finally,  after  a  good  deal  more  rodomon- 
tade and  splurging,  Hardy  got  the  ear  of 
the  meeting  to  "nominate  our  chairman  to 
head  the  Macedonian  wedge."  The  secre- 
tary put  the  nomination,  and  big  Timothy 
was  voted  in  with  a  tumult  of  enthusiasm, 
in  which  the  class  yelled  themselves  hoarse 
and  nearly  stamped  off  their  boot-heels. 

A  committee  was  appointed  to  "  draw  up 
the  challenge  and  buy  the  ball,"  and  with 
nine  cheers  apiece  for  the  chairman,  for  the 
class,  and  for  the  college,  the  meeting  broke 
up.  Next  morning  a  flaming  defiance,  calling 
the  attention  of  the  "  SOPHOMORES  !!  "  in 
letters'  of  five-line  pica,  and  with  a  great 
many  exclamation-points,  appeared  on  the 
front  door  of  Ionic  Hall,  summoning  them 
(if  they  dared)  to  enter  the  lists  against  the 
6 


82  THE  WOODEN   SPOON. 

doughty  Freshmen  on  City  Common,  next 
Wednesday  week,  at  2  o'clock  p.  M.,  for  the 
great  annual  trial  of  championship. 

That  afternoon  the  large  class-room  in 
Ionic  Hall  (the  Sophs'  headquarters)  wit- 
nessed another  rally  quite  as  noisy  as  the 
one  just  described ;  and  on  the  following 
morning  another  flaming  poster  appeared  on 
the  front  door  of  the  old  Hermeum,  accept- 
ing the  challenge  with  jeering  counter-defi- 
ance, and  braggadociously  welcoming  the 
Freshmen  to  destruction. 

"Let  them  come  on!  The  caitiff  pack 
Shall  me,  that  day,  the  battle  wrack, 
And  find  a  sod  for  every  back ! " 

And  if  my  reader  has  not  yet  discovered 
the  meaning  of  all  the  foregoing  fuss,  he  will 
find  it  out  before  the  chapter  closes. 

Nick  Hardy,  as  we  know,  was  one  of  the 


MIND  AND  MUSCLE.  83 

last  men  to  shirk  a  physical  task  or  shun 
a  rough  exercise.  Even  the  bustlings  and 
clown-tumble  surprises  of  "  initiation "  had 
been  to  him  a  sort  of  comic  calisthenics,  ac- 
cepted in  the  interest  of  personal  toughness 
and  levelling  discipline,  as  well  as  of  general 
good-humor.  In  the  customary  boy- struggles 
of  class  life,  ridiculous  as  some  of  them  might 
be,  he  saw  a  means  of  both  social  and  bodily 
drill,  and  he  had  thought  enough  beyond 
mere  present  fun  to  appropriate  from  all 
these  sportive  rivalries  some  solid  practice 
for  the  real  trials  by-and-by. 

A  young  fellow  so  thoroughly  healthy  and 
sensible,  and  so  well  able  to  extract  use  out 
of  nonsense,  was  not  likely  to  neglect  his 
intellectual  rank.  The  certain  classic  charm 
that  surrounds  college  athletics  (far  less  felt 
in  earlier  school-life)  never  tempted  young 
Hardy,  as  it  does  too  many,  from  his  text- 
book duties  and  the  pursuit  of  sterling  schol- 


84  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

arship.  He  did  not  expect  to  be  the  highest 
scholar  in  his  class,  —  an  ambition  which 
would  have  cost  him  more  than  the  worth  of 
the  prize,  —  but  his  achievements  in  the  reci- 
tation-room had  already  placed  him  among 
the  fifth-rank  men ;  and  this,  of  the  twelve 
grades  which  divided  scholarly  standing  at 
that  day,  was  very  respectable  eminence  for 
a  poor  boy  who  had  "  worked  his  passage." 
Running  the  course  with  over  a  hundred 
young  men,  he  did  well  to  hold  a  plac* 
where  he  could  count  only  twenty  or  thirty 
ahead  of  him.  The  exertion  he  must  have 
expended  to  get  abreast  of  the  front  men  he 
gave,  for  the  sake  of  his  health,  to  walking, 
ball-playing,  boating,  gymnasium  practice, 
and  other  vigorous  social  diversions;  and, 
for  the  lighter  tonics,  we  may  be  sure  Nick 
Hardy's  midriff  would  never  wither  for  lack 
of  laughter.  He  found  time,  however,  besides 
his  regular  studies,  to  compete  for  a  Latin 


MIND   AND   MUSCLE.  85 

prize.  Latin  composition  had  been  delight- 
ful to  him  from  the  first,  and  if  the  highest 
college  honor  had  depended  on  mastery  of 
"  Balbus,"  he  would  have  been  a  dangeioas 
rival  for  the  future  "  valedictorian."  There 
were  seven  other  students  competing  with 
him  for  the  same  prize,  and  the  knowledge 
of  this  was  an  additional  stimulus.  So  that 
of  evenings  when  more  careless  fellows  were 
out  larking,  or v  serenading  or  eating  late 
oyster  suppers,  or  engaged  in  the  more  rep- 
rehensible pastime  of  lamp-smashing  or  gate- 
lifting,  he  generally  spent  two  or  three  hours 
exercising  with  his  Latin  Prose  Manual,  and 
Gradus  ad  Parnassum 


Two  armies  stood  in  array  on  City  Common 
—  solid  battalions  of  muscular  youths,  with 
belted  waists,  and  red  shirts,  white  shirts, 
blue  shirts,  an(?  shirts  of  chamois-skin.  It  was 
the  momentou*  Wednesday,  and  the  two  lower 


86  THE  WOODEN  8POON. 

college  classes  had  met  to  try  titles  in  the 
great  annual  Football  game.  Crowds  of  non- 
combatants  surrounded  the  scene,  clustered 
on  the  steps  of  the  churches,  and  roosting 
on  the  fences  and  trees,  spectators  of  the 
Grecian  struggle.  On  an  elevated  platform 
that  commanded  a  view  of  the  whole  field 
the  excited  class-committees  stood  arguing, 
and  trying  to  settle  the  preliminaries  with 
the  umpire,  a  "resident-graduate"  member 
of  the  Law  School.  Erect  on  a  high  curb- 
stone, swinging  his  arms  wildly  abroad,  Wil- 
lard  Faunce  harangued  the  waiting  Fresh- 
men. "  Fellows  !  heroes  1  this  is  the  day  of 
your  strength.  Remember,  and  not  throw 
yourselves  away.  When  the  word  comes, 
throw  yourselves  into  yonder  host,  and  go 
through  them!  [Great  cheering."]  With  our 
gallant  leader  at  the  front  we'll  fight  our 
way  to  the  line,  and  see  fair  play.  Our 
adversaries  will  steal  a  victory  if  they  can. 


MIND   AND  MUSCLE.  87 

If   they  attempt    it  to-day  they'll  find    u» 
there!"     [Hurrah  1  hurrah  /] 

Hal  Stanley  followed  with  another  warlike 
speech.  "Waste  no  breath,  gentlemen,  in 
shouts  or  battle-cries.  Time  enough  for 
shouts  when  our  triumph  is  won.  Courage 
is  silent.  Wait  the  signal  every  man,  and 
then  go  all  together,  like  the  dumb  march 
of  destroying  angels!  Put  hearts,  and  hands, 
and  feet  [cries  of  "  legs  I  "  and  boisterous 
laughter]  into  this  fight,  and  yonder  Sopho- 
mores shall  lick  the  dust !  Let  no  doubt  of 
victory,  no  false  thought^eaken  our  sinews 
or  distract  our  heroic  purpose]  In  the  beau- 
tiful language  of  Mrs.  Hemans,  — 

'  Souls  of  heroes,  now  be  strong ! 
Time  no  more  for  jest  and  song. 
Fled  from  folly's  festive  rite, 
Turn  to  battle's  fierce  delight. 
Forth  from  chamber  and  from  hall, 
Arm!    The  Sophomores  must  fall!'" 


88  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

The  orators  of  the  opposing  class  mean- 
while delivered  similar  harangues  to  their 
men,  and  so  the  time  was  taken  up  till  every- 
thing was  ready.  In  front  of  the  Freshmen 
towered  big  Timothy.  Behind  him  his  fol- 
lowers, ranged  in  successive  platoons  of  two, 
four,  six,  eight,  ten,  and  so  on,  widened 
back  to  the  rear,  standing  shoulder  to  shoul- 
der, the  weakest  ranking  last.  Next  to  the 
champion  stood  Tolman  and  Nick  Hardy. 
Immediately  behind  them  mustered  the  re- 
doubtable Proc,  making  up  in  muscle  what 
he  lacked  in  inches.  This  was  the  terrible 
u  Macedonian  wedge."  It  included  the  whole 
class,  except  Barkenhead  and  two  or  three 
other  nimble  fellows,  all  in  stout,  loose,  blue, 
flannel  shirts,  who  hovered  about  the  rear, 
as  a  sort  of  flying  flankers,  to  look  out  for 
the  ball.  It  was  their  business  to  get  hold 
of  it  and  carry  it  to  the  fence  beyond  the 
Sophomore's  ground-line. 


MIND   AND   MUSCLE.  89 

Ha  !  there  is  the  signal  that  ends  the 
suspense  !  Forth  into  the  open,  between  the 
combatant  lines,  advanced  the  Sophs'  best 
player  on  a  rapid  run,  with  the  football  in 
his  hands.  With  a  powerful  kick  he  canted 
the  ball.  Up  like  a  balloon  it  went,  describ- 
ing a  beautiful  arch  through  the  air  over  the 
Freshmen's  heads.  Every  eye  was  strained 
to  watch  its  fall,  Proc  climbing  up  Nick 
Hardy's  shoulders  to  see.  "Hi,  hi,  he's  got 
it ! "  But  it  would  have  been  an  unpardon- 
able offence  to  tell  who.  Away  went  Barken- 
head's  long  legs  one  way,  two  blue-shirted 
runners  two  other  ways  —  all  three  aiming 
for  the  fence.  Which  one  had  the  ball 
crushed  flat  in  his  shirt-bosom,  and  which 
two  were  hiding  nothing  but  their  hats? 
Let  them  find  out  who  could  catch  and  hold 
them.  "  Stop  him  !  stop  him !  "  But  most 
of  the  Sophs  had  something  else  to  do,  for 
like  an  avalanche  the  "  Macedonian  wedge  " 


90  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

v^ 

came  ploughing  into  their  solid  square,  tear 
ing  right  and  left,  and  in  a  moment  half 
of  the  college  was  mixed  in  a  general  melee. 
Hats  and  caps  flew  in  curves  and  tangents, 
disappearing  in  the  crazy  crush,  or  stuck, 
pounded  down  over  their  owners'  eyes.  Man 
closed  with  man,  all  heaving  and  tugging, 
and  straining  with  huge  effort  and  fury,  the 
Freshmen  to  cover  their  runner  to  the  fence, 
and  the  Sophs  to  force  them  back  and  keep 
the  ball  from  the  line.  King  Hubbub  reigned 
supreme.  Buttons  snapped,  collars  burst  and 
vanished,  and  clutching  fingers  tangled  in 
wild  hair.  In  the  terse  statement  of  a  Fresh- 
man narrator, — 

"  There  were  stitchless  shirts,  and  shirtless  stitches ; 
There  were  breaches  of  peace  and  pieces  of  breeches." 

Within  a  yard  of  the  fence  —  a  dozen  Soph- 
omores packed  in  the  space  between  —  raged 
Barkenhead,  fighting  his  way.  "  Now  they 


MIND   AND   MUSCLE.  91 

have  him  down  ! "  But  he  pulls  down  three 
Sophs  with  him,  winding  his  long  shanks 
round  their  legs.  Now  he  is  up !  No,  he 
is  down  again  !  But  close  by  thundered  big 
Timothy  to  the  rescue,  treading  down  the 
enemy  and  tossing  them  hither  and  thither 
like  a  rampaging  buffalo,  till  two  stalwart 
Sophomores  seized  him  by  the  belt  and  by 
the  hair.  "  Into  'em,  Freshmen !  Pull  'em 
off!  Bravo,  Bark!  Don't  let'em  have  it!" 
and  a  score  of  excited  Juniors,  the  Fresh- 
men's allies,  trying  to  see  fair  play,  hovered 
on  the  edge  of  the  war,  afraid  of  tearing 
their  coats.  Suddenly  a  sharp  little  cackle 
sounded  out  of  the  thickest  of  the  scrim- 
mage, and  up  from  under  a  chaos  of  kicking 
feet  /rose  the  inextinguishable  Proc,  red  and 
reeking,  and  fluttering  with  glorious  rags. 
Scrambling  across  promiscuous  backs  and 
shoulders,  his  shirt-tatters  streaming  in  the 
wind,  he  rode  triumphant,  digging  Sopho- 


92  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

mores'  ribs  and  punching  heads  like  an  ani- 
mated battle-axe.  Right  over  where  strug- 
gled Barkenhead's  legs  (his  hands  holding  bis 
shirt-bosom  like  grim  death),  the  sweaty  little 
hero  pitched  in,  and  hammered,  and  butted, 
and  squirmed,  as  impassible  to  blows  and 
grabs  himself  as  a  greased  pig.  Then  the 
whirlpool  of  fight  swallowed  him  up  again. 

Hurrah  1  The  ball,  the  ball !  Thump  it 
went  up  over  the  crowd,  as  somebody  in- 
flated and  kicked  it.  Barkenhead  had  had 
it  all  the  time,  and  he  vowed  by  the  seven 
cardinal  virtues  and  the  thirty-two  points  of 
compass  that  he  had  it  when  he  touched  the 
fence.  Of  course  all  the  Sophs  contradicted 
him  ;  and  then  the  clamor  began,  lung-power 
taking  the  place  of  legs  and  elbows.  The 
mass  of  humanity  untangled  and  surged  back, 
each  party  shouting,  disputing,  and  trying  to 
cheer  the  other  down.  Spectators  stretched 
their  necks  listening,  inquiring  "which  beat?' 


MIND   AND  MUSCLE.  93 

and  inquiring  in  vain,  and  gaped,  bewildered, 
at  Sophomores  and  Freshmen  "gravitating 
apart  in  sections  and  squads,  —  a  shifting 
drama  of  uproar  and  rags.  Committees  with 
a  betotisled  mob  at  their  heels  wrangled  and 
gesticulated  before  the  distracted  umpire  ; 
groups  of  exultant  partisans,  rallied  after  the 
storm,  made  babel,  singing  "Gaudeamus-"  and 
u  Cocachelunk  " ;  and  in  centre  of  the  field 
Hal  Stanley,  mounted  on  two  fellows'  shoul- 
ders, orated  to  a  remnant  of  his  class  on  the 
"  Freshman  triumph,"  which  "  only  prejudice 
and  falsehood  "  could  gainsay  or  deny.  Truth 
was  mighty,  and  would  prevail;  and  in  the 
far  future  days,  when,  in  "the  beautiful 
words  of  Mrs.  Hemans," 

"...  some  lovely  dream 

Back  from  life's  stormy  fight  your  soul  la  bearing 
To  the  green  places  of  your  boyish  daring," 

it  would  be  sweet  to  have  their  just  claims 


94  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

confessed,  and  to  remember  that  in  their 
first  college  contest  they  did  so  gallantly 
and  well. 

Who  were  the  victors  ?  That  unsettled 
question  speckled  the  dissolving  view  of  the 
great  game,  and  grew  more  hazy  as  the 
scene  faded  away.  We  need  not  try  to 
decide  it  now. 

The  old  annual  Football  contest  is  a  thing 
of  the  past.  It  degenerated  into  a  savage 
rush-and-scuffle,  and  became  a  prohibited 
sport. 

But  our  friend  Hardy,  though  he  came 
out  of  it  with  rent  trousers  and  half  a  shirt, 
never  knew  that  the  rough  battle  of  his  year 
left  a  single  bodily  harm,  or  kindled  a  spark 
of  ill-feeling  between  class  and  class. 


ENDING  m  SMOKE.  95 


CHAPTER  V. 

WHICH  ENDS  IS  SMOKE. 

The  way  that  youth  to  wisdom  brings 
Hides  chance  of  some  unsavoiy  things: 
Then  let  the  venturing  tyro  train 
A  stomach  that  can  match  his  brain.  —  ANOIT. 

TV4"Y  hero  was  not  one  of  those  encyclo- 
pedic human  sponges  who  "  never  for- 
get anything."  His  mind  was  pretty  good 
at  retaining  solids  —  particularly  when  he 
"panned  out"  his  own  gleanings  in  the 
gulches  of  knowledge.  The  fluid  and  futile 

9 

particles  were  likely  to  run  through,  but 
the  gold  generally  stayed  in  the  pan.  He 
remembered  any  piece  of  valuable  informa- 
tion, but  could  rarely  tell  afterwards  whether 
his  informant  wore  black,  or  blue,  or  gray. 


96  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

He  could  keep  the  points  and  argument  of 
a  good  speech,  but  lost  its  tropes  and  "rhe- 
torical dandelions."  He  could  repeat  the 
facts  of  a  college  lesson,  but  not  the  lan- 
guage in  which  they  were  stated.  Many 
of  the  lighter  incidentals,  too,  of  his  earlier 
school  life,  which  another  would  have  made 
much  of,  with  him  shared  the  same  fate  of 
forgetfulness.  Nor  had  he  seen  fit  as  yet  to 
charge  his  mind  with  mere  "  curiosities "  of 
knowledge,  for,  though  fond  of  the  sciences, 
he  was  anything  but  a  minute  philosopher  or 
a  walking  thesaurus. 

If  he  had  been  more  in  the  habit  of  string- 
ing together  and  storing  away  trifles,  he 
might  have  succeeded  better  than  he  did 
in  answering  a  question  that  came  to  'him 
one  day  in  a  letter  from  Squire  Gammel,  of 
Fenwick. 

"  The  suit  pending  on  that  mutilated  old 
will,"  wrote  the  squire,  "  threatens  to  last 


ENDING  IN  SMOKE.  97 

my  life  out."  (Hardy  remembered  the  old 
will,  for  it  had  come  before  him  rather  in 
the  line  of  a  business  exercise  while  he  was 
a  clerk  in  the  squire's  office,  and  the  dis- 
course that  followed  the  handling  of  it  made 
it  almost  like  a  date  in  his  education.)  "The 
case  has  taken  a  new  turn,"  the  letter  con- 
tinued ;  "  or  rather  it  has  developed  new 
complications.  The  bequeathed  property  is 
found  to  have  increased,  in  various  invest- 
ments, to  nearly  half  a  million,  and  several 
new  heirs  have  come  forward  claiming  to 
represent  persons  named  in  the  lost  portion 
of  the  will.  I  have  no  doubt -that  still  others 
will  appear,  and  I  wish  to  find  out  who  they 
all  are  as  soon  as  I  can.  I  have  reason  to 
think  that  descendants  (in  the  female  line) 
of  one  of  the  alleged  heirs,  concerning  whom 
there  is  some  curious  evidence,  settled  some- 
where in  the  vicinity  of  New  Harbor,  — 
county  or  city, —  possibly  the  latter.  The 
7 


rf»  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

family  name  is  McRagh.  If  you  will  ascer- 
tain whether  any  of  that  name  are  living  in 
the  city,  you  will  earn  my  thanks,  besides 
the  fee  which  I  inclose." 

Now,  if  our  friend  Nicholas  had  remem- 
bered a  certain  chapter  of  antiquarian  gossip, 
recited  to  him  more  than  a  year  ago  by  Dr. 
Pliny  Norcross,  of  Hightown,  along  with  con- 
siderable cabalistic  talk  of  wooden  spoons 
and  genealogical  orthographies ;  and  if  he 
had  happened  to  remember  his  exploit  with 
"  bonny-clabber  "  (baugh-naugh-claugh-paugh) 
in  the  old  Red  Shanty  Spelling-School,  a 
great  deal  longer  time  ago,  —  he  might  have 
put  this  and  that  together,  and  hit  the  very 
thing  he  missed  in  the  question,  "Are  there 
any  McRaghs  in  New  Harbor?" 

As  it  was,  having  felt  but  little  interest 
in  the  old  doctor's  yam,  he  had  allowed  it 
to  go  into  one  ear  and  out  at  the  other, 
and  had  quite  forgotten  the  name  it  broke 


ENDING   IN  SMOKE.  99 

oflF  with ;  or,  in  fact,  that  any  new  name  had 
been  mentioned  in  it  at  all.  Accordingly, 
when  he  read  what  the  squire  wrote,  he  did 
not  catch  either  the  right  "  ear-mark,"  or  the 
right  mouthful  of  vowel,  as  he  would  have 
done  if  "  bonny-clabber,"  and  wooden  spoon 
to  serve  it,  had  come  to  him  in  a  lucky 
thought  of  the  moment.  He  pronounced  Mc- 
Eagh  just  as  it  looked  to  him  (not  being  an 
Irishman),  and  struck  the  wrong  key-note 
when  he  went  to  play  on  the  City  Directory. 
He  ran  through  all  the  Mc's  and  Macs ; 
then  he  walked  through  them ;  then  he 
crept  through  them,  and  even  made  an  ex- 
cursion into  the  Mags ;  but  the  name  he 
was  after  did  not  seem  to  be  there.  He 
found  Magraw,  and  McGregors  enough,  but 
there  was  no  McRagh ;  and  he  was  obliged 
to  write  and  tell  the  squire  so.  He  want- 
ed to  return  the  twenty-dollar  check  sent 
him  as  a  "  fee,"  for  he  felt  that  he  had  done 


100  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

nothing  to  earn  it ;  but  some  previous  expe- 
rience of  Squire  Gammel's  way  of  making 
presents  made  him  very  sure  that  his  old 
benefactor  would  resent  it  as  an  impertinence 
if  he  sent  the  money  back. 

He  wrote  his  answer,  and  even  the  thought 
that  occurred  to  him  before  he  closed,  of  re- 
ferring the  squire  to  Dr..Norcross,  of  High- 
town,  as  a  man  who  "  knew  everything "  in 
old  genealogies  and  oddities  of  unpublished 
history  —  did  not  bring  with  it  any  hint  that 
he  had  ever  heard  the  name  he  was  asked 
to  look  for.  With  the  promise  to  address 
the  doctor  immediately  himself,  he  closed  the 
letter  and  sent  it.  Then  he  wrote  to  High- 
town,  begging  the  doctor  to  forward  to 
Squire  Gammel  any  information  he  might 
possess;  and  that  done,  the  matter  passed 
entirely  from  his  mind,  not  to  be  recalled 
again  till  eight  months  afterwards. 


ENDING  IN   SMOKE.  .      101 

"  Have  you  seen  Sidney  ? "  Mrs.  Hinni- 
pick  had  asked  this  question  so  often  that 
her  nine  young  men  had  got  used  to  it,  and 
could  generally  dispose  of  it  with  no  more 
extravagant  demonstration  than  smiling  in 
their  sleeves.  But  on  this  particular  even- 
ing the  old  inquiry  seemed  to  tickle  every 
boarder  at  the  supper-table  half  into  fits, 
and  Proc  let  off  one  of  his  little  cackles 
before  the  words  had  fairly  left  the  good 
landlady's  mouth. 

Now  it  may  not  be  very  important  for 
the  reader  to  know^  but  I  might  as  well 
say  it  here,  that  Sidney,  the  landlady's  long- 
haired son,  was  a  genius  in  a  small  way, 
—  or  affected  something  of  the  kind,  —  and 
cultivated  one  of  the  fine  arts.  He  was 
strong  on  the  pianoforte  and  guitar,  and  his 
chief  visible  means  of  support  was  giving 
music-lessons.  He  was  a  quiet,  well-meaning 
youth,  with  just  a  streak  of  simplicity  in  his 


102  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

constitution,  perhaps,  and  his  only  eccentric- 
ity was  a  habit  of  not  coming  home  with 
exact  regularity  to  meals  and  to  bed. 

His  musical  pursuits,  and  the  somewhat 
uncertain  demands  of  his  business  (his  pupils 
being  rather  transient,  and  picked  up  here 
and  there),  no  doubt  accounted  for  this 
mostly,  and  his  facility  for  saying  "yes," 
and  for  taking  every  polite  invitation  to  eat, 
or  to  stay  anywhere,  as  an  evidence  of  special 
friendship,  would  explain  the  rest.  His  un- 
punctualities  were  chiefly  noticeable  from 
the  ado  his  mother  made  over  them,  which, 
inasmuch  as  Sidney  was  twenty  years  old, 
and  not  at  all  "  wild,"  should  have  been 
quite  unnecessary.  But  it  was  Mrs.  Hinni- 
pick's  way  to  worry,  and  it  was  as  natural 
for  her  to  fidget  about  Sidney  when  he  failed 
to  come  to  time,  as  for  an  invalid  to  nurse 
a  pet  rheumatism,  or  asthma,  or  gout. 

It  so    happened    that  on    this    particular 


ENDING  IN  SMOKE.  103 

evening  Sidney  had  come  home  in  good  season, 
and  made  his  appearance  among  the  students 
(there  were  but  six  of  them)  in  the  parlor, 
but  considerably  changed  as  to  his  outer  man. 
The  bluff  greetings  he  received  —  such  as 
"  Hillo,  Hehpeck  !  been  reciting  to  Professor 
Trip  ?  "  (alluding  to  a  certain  popular  colored 
barber  named  Quon,  whom  the  students  dubbed 
"Professor  of  C/raniological  Tripsis;)  "Say, 
Sid,  now  you  can  have  your  head  examined, 
can't  you  ?  "  "  Ah,  Sidney,  why  didn't  you 
save  me  one  of  your  tresses  ? "  &c.,  &c.  — 
would  have  indicated  plainly  enough  to  an 
outsider  that  the  young  man  had  just  had 
his  hair  cut,  and  cut  rather  close.  From 
the  parlor  Sidney  had  passed  up  stairs  to 
his  room,  and  when  Mrs.  Hinnipick,  mean- 
time busy  with  her  cook,  and  all  unconscious 
of  his  arrival,  rang  the  tea-bell,  he  had  de- 
scended to  supper  behind  the  six  students, 
and  from  some  freak  of  the  moment  dropped 


104  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

into  a  vacant  chair  that  was  not  his  o\*n*, 
so  that  at  the  very  instant  Mrs.  Hinnipick 
was  asking  "  Have  you  seen  my  Sidney  ? " 
there  sat  her  son  at  the  table,  a  very  much 
embarrassed  young  man  indeed. 

The  innocence  and  perfect  absurdity  of  the 
question,  joined  with  the  cause  of  the  blun- 
der and  Sidney's  looks,  broke  down  the 
gravity  of  the  students  at  once,  and  Proc's 
preliminary  cackle  was  followed  by  a  chorus 
of  laughter  so  hearty  and  so  loud  that  it 
soon  forced  its  own  explanation.  In  the 
height  of  it  Nick  Hardy  entered,  with  Matt 
Calvin  and  Hobart  Whately,  and  thoir  arri- 
val and  comical  surprise  of  course  gave  the 
storm  of  merriment  fresh  wind.  Calvin,  see- 
ing Sidney  with  his  cropped  head  sitting 
out  of  place,  and  in  his  chair,  did  not  wait 
to  know  what  the  real  joke  was,  but  poun- 
cing upon  that  young  man  in  well-mimicked 
indignation,  he  invited  him  summarily  to  his 


ENDING   IN  SMOKE.  105 

feet,  and  forthwith  marched  him  to  his  own 
seat  beside  his  bewildered  and  astonished 
mother.  The  paroxysm  of  recognition  that 
followed  capped  the  climax,  and  the  tumult 
culminated  in  Mrs.  Hinnipick's  quaint  little 
scream,  "Why,  Sidney,  is  it  YOU?"  It  was 
some  time  before  the  tickled  company  could 
sober  down,  and  the  three  last  comers,  having 
but  just  got  at  the  key  of  the  fun,  laughed 
louder  than  the  rest,  taking  (as  Nick  said) 
their  digestion  first  and  their  meal  after- 
wards. Mrs.  Hinnipick  laughed  too,  and  de- 
clared that  she  must  really  buy  a  pair  of 
spectacles,  and  wear  them,  she  was  so  near- 
sighted (a  resolution  which  she  shortly  after 
carried  out). 

"  Good-bye,  Sidney,"  said  Nick,  when  the 
students  were  leaving  the  table.  "  You  have 
put  me  in  mind  of  a  neglected  duty.  I  am 
going  to  see  Professor  Trip,  and  have  my 
hair  cut  too." 


106  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

"  And  I  think  Ttt  go  to  Doctor  Rubber- 
gum  (a  favorite  city  dentist)  and  have  my 
eye-teeth  cut,"  muttered  John  Fay  Lewis, 
a  fellow-Freshman,  as  they  all  passed  into 
the  street.  Something  in  John's  manner  of 
speaking  provoked  the  rest  to  ask,  "  What's 
the  matter,  Lewis?" 

"  Humph  ! "  ejaculated  John  ;  "  you  don't 
take;"  and  then  there  was  a  pause.  "Have 
any  of  you  fellows  been  humbugged  by  that 
Sophomore  tax-collector  in  a  stovepipe  hat?" 
presently  quoth  John  with  childlike  frank- 
ness. "  He  came  round  last  week  pretending 
there  was  a  '  lamp-tax '  assessed  on  all  Fresh- 
men, and  I  didn't  know  him,  and  he  got  a 
dollar  and  a  half  out  of  me,  and  — " 

The  rest  of  it  was  drowned  in  a  roar  as 
loud  as  the  one  that  shook  the  supper-table. 
Two  of  the  company  (who  did  not  make  quite 
so  much  noise  as  the  others)  had  in  fact 
been  imposed  upon  in  the  same  way,  but 


ENDING  IN  SMOKE.  107 

| 

they  concluded  not  to  own  it  just  then. 
The  " lamp-tax"  swindle  afforded  conversa- 
tion enough  till  the  party  'separated,  Hardy 
going  to  the  barber's,  and  the  rest  wherever 
they  chose. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  Nick  could  be 
served,  and  when  finally  Quon  had  finished 
him  off  in  his  best  style,  he  started  for  his 
room,  the  college  clock  striking  nine  just 
as  he  crossed  the  Campus.*  Then  it  oc- 
curred to  him  that  "  Professor  Paley  "  had 
overlooked  him  in  his  morning  round  that 
day.  ("  Professor  Paley  "  was  the  negro  who 
toted  pails,  his  duty  being  to  carry  away 
the  students'  slops.)  Having  scrupulous  no- 
tions of  health  and  neatness,  he  decided  that 
he  must  interview  that  delinquent  scavenger, 
and  give  him  a  mild  "  blowing  up,"  and 
impress  him  once  for  all  with  the  fact  that 


*  The  college  green. 


108  THE  WOODEN    SPOON. 

he,  Nicholas  Hardy,  U.  G.  (under-graduate), 
roomed  in  North  Central,  lower  entry,  back, 
dormitory  No.  5.  But  by  the  time  he  had 
accomplished  this  errand  Nick's  evening  was 
considerably  far  spent,  and  he  hastened 
home,  preoccupied  with  thoughts  of  crowded 
worR  and  late  study-hours.  His  key  rattled 
in  the  lock  of  No.  5.  The  door  swung  open. 
Phew !  He  had  stepped  inside  and  found 
himself  in  an  abyss  of  tobacco-smoke  !  The 
room  was  as  black  as  Erebus,  and  it  seemed 
as  if  every  cubic  foot  of  air  in  it  would 
weigh  a  pound.  But  Nick  was  not  in  the 
habit  of  backing  off  his  own  ground, —  at 
least  till  he  knew  what  there  was  to  be 
afraid  of,  —  and  certain  suppressed  move- 
ments around  him  enabled  him  to  guess  at 
the  cause  of  the  mischief.  Stumbling  over 
one  or  two  pairs  of  mysterious  legs,  he 
reached  his  table,  found  a  match  in  the 
drawer,  and  struck  a  light.  Then  through 


ENDING   IN  SMOKE.  109 

the  grim  nimbus  of  smoke  that  filled  the 
room  he  saw  a  dozen  disguised  figures 
sprawled  on  the  chairs,  the  settee,  and  the 
wood-box,  with  great  meerschaums  in  their 
mouths.  A  flush  of  resentment  and  disgust 
burned  his  face  for  the  moment,  as  he 
glanced  from  his  unwelcome  visitors  to  his 
books,  and  mentally  calculated  his  plundered 
time.  But  he  summoned  all  his  philosophy 
and  reminded  himself  that  he  must  make 
the  best  of  it.  "  Good  evening,  gentlemen ! " 
For  reply  one  of  the  Sophomores  (that  was 
the  way  Nick  spelt  the  "  gentlemen "  under 
their  disguises)  got  up  and  shut  the  door. 
He  could  do  no  more  than  that,  for  Nick 
had  pocketed  the  key.  ("Shrewd  boy/' one 
of  the  pipe  party  was  overheard  to  say,  pat- 
ronizingly, some  time  afterwards,  alluding 
to  that  piece  of  caution.)  The  twelve  Sophs 
—  who  by  hook  or  crook  had  got  in  through 
the  window  during  Hardy's  absence,  to 


110  THE   WOODEN   SPOON. 

"  smoke  the  Freshman  out "  —  had  had  a 
pretty  long  wait,  and  had  almost  smoked 
themselves  out  before  he  arrived.  Nick 
often  said,  laughing  over  the  recollection, 
"  Nobody  but  a  Freshman  would  have  taken 
the  trouble  to  hunt  up  '  Professor  Paley ' 
between  nirie  and  ten  o'clock  P.  M.,  but  I 
owed  to  that,  more  than  to  anything  else, 
the  turn  the  affair  took  that  night." 

He  noticed  that  some  of  the  smokers  were 
not  pulling  very  vigorously  at  their  pipes; 
and  when  the  door  was  clapped  to,  to  save 
all  the  fume  that  had  been  made  for  his 
benefit,  he  remarked,  "That's  right;  it's  get- 
ting chilly.  It's  a  foggy  night,  and  the  air 
smells  of  old  cheese.  Ton  my  word,  the 
fire  's  nearly  out  I  "  and  at  that  he  piled  some 
kindlings  on  the  coals,  set  up  the  blower, 
and  made  a  tearing  blaze.  The  heat  and 
the  tobacco-smoke  together  made  the  room 
like  the  inside  of  a  coal-pit,  but  Nick  with 


ENDING   IN  SMOKE.  Ill 

huge  effort  suppressed  his  inclination  to 
cough  and  sneeze.  He  would  choke  before 
he  would  gratify  his  polite  friends  with  such 
a  hint  of  weakness.  He  knew  his  lungs 
were  strong,  and  his  stomach  was  strong, 
and  he  could  stand  it  if  they  could.  "  You 
don't  seem  disposed  to  talk  much,  gentlemen," 
he  continued,  —  for  the  care  not  to  have  their 
voices  recognized  kept  them  rather  mum. 
u  Well,  you  smoke  and  I'll  study ;  I've  got 
a  staving  long  lesson."  And  he  began  to 
turn  the  leaves  of  his  Greek  lexicon.  "  Here, 
your  pipes  have  gone  out,"  —  addressing 
two  of  the  Sophs,  who  seemed  to  be  losing 
their  interest  in  the  sport.  .  "Fill  up,  and 
have  another  light,"  holding  out  a  bunch 
of  matches.  There  was  a  passage  of  silence, 
broken  only  by  the  rustle  of  lexicon  leaves 
and  the  puff,  puff  of  the  pipes,  till  the  flue 
of  a  volcano  would  have  been  breezy  climate 
to  the  fog  and  stench  of  vile  canaster  and 


112  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

killikinick  that  thickened  the  room.  But 
Hardy  betrayed  no  uneasiness.  The  smok- 
ers were  losing  patience.  Possibly  they 
had  taken  his  measure,  and  thought  him 
dangerous,  else  they  would  have  undertaken 
to  "  haze "  him  in  some  other  way.  They 
had  come  loaded  for  a  mock  lecture,  besides 
the  smoke.;  but  Nick's  provoking  endurance 
and  sang  froid  nearly  collapsed  them.  At 
length  the  chief  spokesman  ventured  on  his 
preamble. 

"  Freshman,"  (in  a  big,  made-up  voice,)  "  at 
the  commencement  of  your  college  career " 
(a  peculiar  noise  from  a  Soph  on  the  wood- 
box)  "  advice  from  your  elders  is  needful 
respecting  your  personal  habits.  First,  never 
allow  yourself  to  use  tobacco"  (the  Soph  on 
the  wood-box  got  up  and  moved  away.  The 
temperature  of  the  room  had  gone  up  to 
about  100°  Fahrenheit.)  "The  filthy  weed 
beclouds  the  brain,  destroys  the  finer  sensi- 


IN  SMOKE.  113 

bilities,  unsettles  the  judgment,  weakens  the 
will,  and  —  "  There  the  "  lecturer  "  sudden- 
ly discontinued,  for  just  then  the  Soph  in  the 
opposite  corner  leaned  over  with  a  squawk 
of  agony,  and  deposited  the  contents  of  his 
stomach  on  the  floor.  Immediately  another 
followed  suit,  and,  once  started,  the  dire 
contagion  seized  full  half  the  company,  till 
the  gagging,  and  retching,  and  upheaving 
all  around,  the  room  created  a  scene  worse 
than  a  sea-sick  ship-cabin.  In  another  min- 
ute the  door  was  desperately  flung  open, 
and  the  discomfited  smokers  beat  an  igno- 
minious retreat. 

"  Professor  Paley "  found  enough  to  do 
when  he  came  round  to  No.  5  the  next 
morning;  and  Hardy  had  to  air  his  room, 
and  burn  pastils  in  it,  for  forty-eight  consec- 
utive hours. 

The  next  issue  of  the  "  Nipper  "  contained 
8 


114  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

a  descriptive  "  poem  "  (which  all  but  twelve 
fellows  laughed  over),  entitled  Gloria  Soph- 
omorum  FDMUS, — which,  being  freely  inter- 
preted, Bignifieth  "  Sophomoric  smartness  enda 
in  smoke." 


A  LONG  DAY.  WITH  AN  ADVENTUBE.     115 


CHAPTER   VI 

A  LONG  DAY,  WITH  AN  ADVENTUBE. 

And  the  unthought-on  accident  is  guilty 
Of  what  we  wildly  do. — WINTBB'S  TALE. 

HPHE  winter  and  spring  of  Freshman  year 
came  and  went.  Nicholas  Hardy  con- 
tinued to  inquire  for  knowledge,  and  Mrs. 
Hinnipick  to  inquire  for  her  son.  On  the 
first  occasion,  since  the  arrival  of  the  sum- 
mer days,  that  the  good  lady  happened  to 
want  to  know  if  anybody  had  "  seen  Sid- 
ney," Nick  and  several  of  the  other  boarders 
promised  her,  in  pleasant*  jest,  that  they 
would  charge  their  minds  with  the  young 
man's  case,  and  ''  look  him  up." 
"  Hardy  speaks  with  a  good  deal  of  con- 


116  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

fidence ;  I'll  bet  he's  got  him  stowed  away 
somewhere,"  said  Hobart  Whately. 
•  "  Nonsense,  Bart,"  protested  Nick;  "  I  re- 
pel the  insinuation  like  an  honest  man.  If 
you  don't  believe  me  you  may  search  my 
pockets." 

"  Proc,"  said  Matt  Calvin,  looking  severely 
across  the  table,  and  clearing  his  voice  with 
a  portentous  hem,  — "  Proc,  your  blushes 
would  intimate  (whereupon  Proc  swelled  up 
and  grew  redder  than  ever),  would  intimate 
that  you  know  more  about  this  matter  than 
you  should.  Have  you  got  Sidney  over 
there,  and  are  you  sitting  on  him?" 

Proc  exploded  with  his  customary  cackle, 
and  jumped  up  and  made  a  great  show  of 
looking  in  and  under  his  chair.  Then  quite 
a  general  investigation  of  chairs  followed, 
and  one  roguish  Freshman  looked  into  the 
sugar-bowl.  Failing  to  find  Sidney  any- 
where about  the  dinner-table,  the  company 


A  LONG  DAY,   WITH  AN   ADVENTUBE.      117 

promised  Mrs.  Hinnipick  that  they  would 
continue  the  search  at  another  time,  and 
over  a  somewhat  wider  range. 

Mrs.  Hinnipick  had  long  made  up  her 
mind  that  she  had  a  droll  set  of  boys  to 
deal  with,  but  she  liked  them  for  all  that, 
and  being  now  well  wonted  to  their  ways, 
none  of  their  waggery  and  fun  offended  her, 
even  when  (as  to-day)  it  might  seem  to  be 
a  little  at  her  expense.  Sidney  had  been 
missing  since  shortly  after  tea-time  the  day 
before.  Mrs.  Hinnipick  imagined  that  he 
might  have  spent  the  night  at  the  Lasalle 
House,  where  he  was  to  have  performed 
with  a  "  select "  company  of  musicians  at 
a  soiree,  and  would  probably  have  to  play 
very  late ;  but  she  thought  he  should  have 
been  at  home  to  dinner.  The  young  man 
was  doubtless  very  busy,  the  students  sug- 
gested. A  "  young  artist/'  with  his  fortune 
to  make,  must  expect  to  have  his  hands  full, 


118  THE   WOODEN   SPOON. 

and  not  always  be  able  to  command  his  time. 

So  they  consoled  her. 

• 

That  fine  afternoon,  the  weather  being 
rather  warm,  candor  compels  me  to  say  that 
the  fellows  in  Nick's  division  did  not  "rush" 
their  Livy  very  brilliantly,  and  they  were 
no  exception  to  the  rest  of  the  class. 

Harry  Weatherbee  translated  "muUis  ante 
tempestatibus"  "many  storms  ago,"  and  the 
tntor  brought  him  to  a  sudden  halt.  Billy 
Dickinson  undertook  the  same  passage,  and 
fizzled  on  "jam  turn"  at  the  set-off.  Con- 
rad Phelps  tried  three  times  before  he  could 
give  the  principal  parts  of  "  insidior ; "  and 
Bob  Burns  made  a  "  dead  flunk "  on  the 
story  of  Remus  and  the  robbers.  All  which, 
considering  the  general  good  record  of  the 
reciters,  and  the  fact  that  the  lesson  was 
only  a  review,  was  sufficiently  discouraging. 
But  the  tutor  kept  his  temper  excellently 


A  LONG  DAY,  WITH  AN  ADVENTUBE.      119 

remembering  sundry  flat  days  in  his  own 
Freshman  experience;  and  even  \\hen,  at  a 
critical  moment  in  poor  Tibby  Dorman'a 
grammar  exercise,  a  mouse  ran  across  the 
floor,  causing  a  breeze  of  mirth,  he  only 
quietly  rallied  them  for  making  such  a 
"ridiculous  muss,"*  thereby  raising  the  tit- 
ter to  a  full-grown  laugh.  Proc  would  have 
been  in  his  glory  then,  if  he  could  have 
been  certain  that  he  would  not  be  called 
up.  Dreading  this,  he  sat  sidewise  with 
crossed  legs,  "  cribbing"  his  grammar  ques- 
tions out  of  the  book  hidden  behind  his  -knee, 
(a  frequent  habit  with  Proc,  I  am  sorry  to 
say.)  On  one  side  of  him  on  the  recitation 
bench,  in  the  old  alphabetical  order,  always 
sat  Conrad  Phelps,  and  on  the  other  side 
Tom  Pullen.  As  he  bent  over,  intent  on 


*  A  pun  on  ridiculus  mua,  from  a  line  of  Horace — mut 
meaning  "mouse." 


120  THE    WOODEN   SPOON. 

bis  stolen  studies,  his  position  tautened  his 
white  linen  coat  across  his  round  back  as 
tightly  as  a  stocking  over  a  darning-egg, 
and  Conrad,  with  sly  penknife  ready  in  his 
hand,  improved  the  opportunity  to  snip  a 
stitch  in  the  centre  seam.  If  Proc  hap- 
pened to  sit  the  other  way,  Tom,  also  with 
Bly  penknife  ready,  performed  similar  sur- 
gery on  another  stitch.  On  this  occasion 
they  followed  it  up  so  industriously  that 
when  finally  the  sharp  call  of  the  tutor 
brought  Proc  to  his  feet,  like  the  shock  of 
a  galvanic  battery,  there  was  a  gap  in  his 
ooat  two  inches  long.  Of  course  this  would 
be  discovered  by  to-morrow,  and  nicely 
sewed  up,  and  the  boys  would  cut  it  again. 
Tom  and  Conrad  seemed  to  owe  that  old 
white  coat  a  particular  grudge. 

Proc's  talents  did  not  develop  very  stroijg- 
ly  in  the  line  of  scholarship,  as  the  reader 
has  probably  guessed  already,  and  when  the 


A  LONG   DAY,   WITH   AN  ADVENTUBE.      121 

tutor  asked  him  to  state  "  the  uses  of 
the  imperfect  subjunctive,"  it  was  not  ex- 
actly a  surprise  to  see  him  hopelessly 
stuck. 

"Is  it  used  in  the  protasis,  or  apodosis  — 
or  both  ? "  questioned  the  gracious  tutor, 
with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  gasped  Proc,  utterly  bewil- 
dered and  out  at  sea.  And  the  choke  of 
class-room  merriment  that  greeted  his  "  rush," 
and  the  sight  of  his  apoplectic  cheeks  as  he 
sat  down,  would  have  been  painful  but  for  a 
timely  nensation  outside  that  justified  a  loud 
guffaw  from  the  whole  division.  At  that 
instant  a  hand-organ  grinder  (probably  hired 
by  some  rascally  Sophomore)  planted  his 
instrument  directly  under  the  window,  and 
began  to  wheeze  forth  the  entrancing  strains 
of  "  Old  Dog  Tray." 

The  good-natured  tutor  endured  it  as  long 
as  he  could,  patiently  endeavoring  to  bring 


122  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

back  the  attention  of  the  class  to  the  lesson. 
But  it  was  useless;  and  as  the  hour  was 
nearly  out,  rather  than  attempt  to  drive  the 
troublesome  minstrel  away,  he  closed  the 
recitation. 

Mrs.  Hinnipick's  inquiries  at  tea-time  were 
more  anxious  than  ever,  for  Sidney  was  still 
missing.  To  humor  her,  and  partly  to  make 
amends  for  their  sport  at  noon,  about  which 
they  now  began  to  have  some  misgivings, 
Hardy,  Calvin,  and  Whately  said  that  when 
they  took  their  customary  after-supper  stroll 
they  would  make  it  in  their  way  to  call  at 
the  Lasalle  House. 

They  started  in  even  more  than  college 
boys'  usual  spirits,  and  marched  arm-in-arm 
down  University  Street,  keeping  step  to  the 
music  of  "  Shool,"  and  "  Saddle  up  the  old 
gray  horse."  There  were  six  of  them,  three 
more  having  joined  the  original  party,  and 


A  LONG  DAT,  WITH  AN  ADVENTURE.      123 

every  one  had  something  special  at  heart 
that  evening  to  make  him  merry.  Hardy's 
name  had  been  read  at  chapel  prayers  as 
the  successful  competitor  for  the  Bentham 
Latin  Prize  ;  Calvin  had  drawn,  by  rare 
good  luck,  the  best  second-year  choice  .of 
rooms  in  the  "  barracks,"  as  old  South  Cen- 
tral was  called ;  Whately  had  found  out 
that  Kate  Devereaux,  a  young  lady  in  Park 
Avenue  Seminary,  called  him  the  hand- 
somest fellow  in  his  class  ;  Will  Sampson 
had  got  rid  of  an  uncomfortable  chum ; 
Charley  Durkee  had  received  notice  of  his 
election  to  the  Mozart  Singing  Club ;  and 
Proc,  on  whom  no  trouble  sat  heavily  or 
long,  and  who  would  have  been  no  happier 
if  he  had  "  floored  "  everything  in  Livy  re- 
citation that  afternoon,  had  just  got  a  letter 
from  home  with  fifty  dollars  in  it. 

Besides     these     personal     felicities,     the 
thought  of  Presentation  Day  soon  to  come, 


124  THE  WOODEN    SPOON. 

when  all  their  class  would  be  promoted  to 
Sophomore  seats  in  the  Chapel,  and 

"Freshmen  be  no  more,' 

operated,  more  or  less  consciously,  to  make 
them  "feel  good,"  and  let  off  their  feelings 
in  tuneful  sounds.  Turning  into  Meeting 
Street,  they  passed  thence  down  Linden, 
singing  all  the  way ;  and  by  that  time  they 
had  exhausted  the  "  Old  Gray  Horse,"  and 
struck  up  the  more  tumultuous  "Upidee." 
Louder  and  louder  the  swelling  bars  of  the 
noisy  chorus  surged  along,  Charley  Durkee's 
fine  tenor  always  leading,  till  the  "ya,  ya, 
ya!"  that  ever  and  anon  broke  the  rise  and 
fall  of  the  melody,  rang  like  an  Indian  war- 
whoop.  Suddenly  the  song  ceased ;  all  stood 
startled  to  see  a  hors3  running  away  with 
two  ladies.  Only  the  moment  before  they 
had  noticed  a  stylish  pony-wagon  turn  into 
Linden  Street  from  Riverway,  and  it  was 
when  directly  opposite  the  party  of  students 


A  LONG  DAY,   WITH  AN  ADVENTUBB.      125 

that  the  little  horse  had  broken  into  a 
frightened  gallop. 

"  It's  our  singing  that  did  it,"  said  Nick. 
"  Too  bad  I  " 

And  they  all  set  off  at  the  top  of  their 
speed  to  follow  the  flying  team.  Fortu- 
nately for  the  safety  of  the  terrified  pas- 
sengers, the  horse  did  not  turn  any  corners, 
nor  did  the  woman  who  drove  entirely  lose 
her  control  of  the  reins.  It  was  a  furious 
run,  but  a  short  one.  A  one-sided  pull  on 
the  bit  threw  the  excited  animal  upon  the 
sidewalk ;  there  was  a  crash  of  glass ;  one 
of  the  thills  of  the  pony-wagon  had  plunged 
through  the  window  of  a  drug-store.  The 
horse's  career  was  stopped,  and  he  stood 
unhurt,  but  trembling. 

The  next  instant  the  students  were  on 
the  spot  pouring  forth  apologies,  and  in- 
quiring anxiously  after  the  damage  done. 
The  elderly  lady,  who  seemed  to  be  the 


126  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

owner  of  the  team,  had  fainted,  or  so  nearly 
so  (with  her  fright)  that  she  was  pale  and 
helpless ;  and  this  proved  to  be  the  worst 
result  of  the  "  accident."  The  firmer-nerved 
Abigail,  who  attended  her,  and  who  had  held 
the  reins,  was  a  good  deal  shaken  up,  but 
was  quite  able  to  answer  questions,  and  to 
care  for  her  mistress,  while  others  held  the 
horse.  She  declined  the  druggist's  proposal 
to  assist  the  lady  into  his  store,  saying 
that  it  would  be  her  wish  to  drive  home  as 
soon  as  possible.  Accordingly  some  smelling- 
salts  and  a  bottle  of  bay-rum  were  brought, 
and  the  application  of  these  soon  recovered 
the  lady  sufficiently  to  sit  up  without  support. 

"  There,  Martha,  we'll  go  home  now,"  she 
whispered. 

Nicholas  stepped  to  the  side  of  the  wagon 
and  touched  his  hat.  "Are  you  not  afraid, 
madam  ?  Wouldn't  yon  like  a  man  to  drive 
your  horse  ?  "  he  asked. 


A  LONG  DAY,  WITH  AN  ADVENTUBE.      127 

He  had  made  a  rapid  estimate  of  the  injury 
to  the  window  and  to  the  team,  seeing  that 
the  women  were  not  seriously  hurt,  while 
Proc  and,  Whately  soothed  and  petted  the 
pony,  a  handsome  sorrel  with  thin  nostrils 
and  delicate  ears  that  played  back  and  forth 
like  the  talking  fingers  of  a  deaf-mute. 

"  It  is  the  least  we  can  do,  after  the  fright 
and  trouble  we  have  caused  you,"  added 
Nicholas,  noticing  some  hesitation  on  the  part 
of  the  occupants  of  the  wagon. 

"  To  tell  the  truth,  I  do  feel  a  little  weak 
and  nervous  myself,"  said  the  woman  "  Mar- 
tha," with  a  faint  laugh,  looking  suggestively 
at  the  mistress.  Then,  turning  to  Nicholas, 
"  Will  you  —  " 

"  Certainly,  madam,"  replied  he,  and  with- 
out more  delay  he  proceeded  to  fulfil  his 
oflice,  the  acceptance  of  which,  probably, 
his  gentlemanly  manners  had  done  more  than 
anything  else  to  decide. 


128  THE   WOODEN   SPOON. 

"  Settle  for  the  glass,  boys,"  he  said  as 
he  took  the  reins,  "  and,  understand,  you 
assess  me  for  my  share  ; "  and  as  he  drove 
away,  Proc  and  Whately  joined  the  rest  of  the 
party  who  had  been  making  terms  with  the 
owner  of  the  broken  window. 

"209  Savin  Street"  was  the  place  to 
which  our  friend  Hardy  was  directed  to  go. 
It  proved  to  be  a  very  pleasant  though  rather 
quaint  residence  almost  in  the  suburbs ;  and 
by  the  time  he  arrived  there  with  his  com- 
pany he  had  learned  that  it  belonged  to  Miss 
Tabitha  Magraw,  the  elderly  lady  to  whom 
chance  and  his  own  courtesy  had  made  him 
temporary  coachman.  He  gallantly  assisted 
his  charge  into  the  house,  though  she  now 
stood  in  little  ne'ed  of  attention,  and  was 
making  his  polite  adieus,  and  expressing  his 
hopes  for  her  health  and  comfort,  &c.,  when 
the  lady  hinted  that  she  would  like  to  know 
who  he  was.  He  handed  her  his  card,  and 


A  LONG  DAY,  WITH   AN  ADVENTUBE.      129 

bowed  himself  out,  but  to  his  surprise  the 
woman  Martha  called  after  him  before  he 
reached  the  gate,  and  told  him  her  mistress 
insisted  that  he  should  stay  and  eat  straw- 
berries and  ice-cream.  Rather  reluctantly 
(for  he  was  anxious  to  get  back  to  his  room) 
Nick  complied,  and  was  waited  on  into  the 
drawing-room.  As  he  entered,  directly  be- 
fore him,  seated  at  the  piano  with  a  genteel- 
looking  young  damsel,  who  should  he  see  but 
Mrs.  Hinnipick's  interesting  son,  the  missing 
Sidney  1 

That  young  man  looked  rather  sheepish, 
but  remembered  himself  sufficiently  to  intro- 
duce "  Miss  Margaret  Granger,  one  of  my 

pupils,"  to  "Mr.  Hardy,  of  the  Class  of , 

an  old  friend  of  mine ; "  so  that  our  hero 
found  himself  on  a  double  footing  in  the 
family  before  he  fairly  had  time  to  take  in 
the  situation,  for  Miss  Margaret  was  Miss 
Tabitha  Magraw's  niece. 
9 


130  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

"  A  fanny  denouement  this  ! "  thought  he. 
"  Half  an  hour  ago  I  am  walking  down  Lin- 
den Street,  singing  '  Upidee,'  and,  presto  1 
here  I  am  two  miles  away,  a  guest  in  one 
of  the  mansions  of  '  the  quality  '  1  How's 
a  fellow  to  account  for  himself  if  this  is 
the  way  he  is  to  be  whisked  about?  Well, 
IVe  found  Sidney,  any  way;  and  I'll  take 
the  youngster  to  his  mother." 

Presently  a  colored  servant  brought  in  the 
ices  and  strawberries  (the  latter  from  Miss 
Magraw's  own  garden),  and  the  three  sat 
down  together  to  the  little  banquet.  Sid- 
ney appeared  quite  at  home  in  the  house. 
and  Hardy  could  see  plainly  enough  how 
matters  stood  between  him  and  the  young 
lady. 

"  You  were  not  brought  here  quite  so 
unexpectedly  as  I  was,  I  fancy,"  he  said, 
glancing  mischievously  from  the  young  man 
to  his  fair  companion;  and  then,  to  save 


A'  LONG  DAT,  WITH  AN  ADVENTUEE.      131 

embarrassment,  he  immediately  took  up  an- 
other subject.  Miss  Margaret  was  sociable, 
rather  gushing,  in  fact,  and  the  conver- 
sation soon  became  amusing  enough  to  all 
concerned  to  make  them  forget  the  absence 
of  the  hostess.  Miss  Margaret  was  called 
out  for  a  moment  to  speak  to  a  girl  ac- 
quaintance who  had  merely  stopped  for  a 
threshold  errand,  and  as  she  disappeared 
Sidney  said,  "Keep  this  quiet,  will  you^ 
Hardy  ?  If  the  fellows  find  out,  you  know. 
I  suppose  mother  has  been  asking  after 
me,  as  usual ;  but  you  see  I  had  to  —  " 

"Spare  your  secrets,  Sid,"  interrupted 
Nick.  "  This  is  none  of  my  business.  If 
you  get  home  to-night,  no  doubt  it  will  be 
all  right." 

And  in  a  moment  more  the  young  lady 
returned,  accompanied  by  Miss  Tabitha. 

As  the  new  guest  seemed  to  be  the  chief 
object  of  Miss  Tabitha's  attention,  Sidney 


132  THE  WOODEN   SPOON. 

and  Margaret  shortly  withdrew  to  the  ve- 
randa, leaving  Hardy  and  the  hostess  alone. 
Immediately  that  lady,  dropping  small-talk, 
took  out  the  card  he  had  given  her,  read 
his  name  on  it  aloud,  and  looked  at  him 
as  if  she  had  something  on  her  mind. 

"  Was  your  grandmother's  maiden  name 
Lyman  ?  "  she  suddenly  asked. 

Nicholas  was  a  little  staggered  at  the 
bluntness  of  the  question.  He  replied  that 
he  was  not  au  fait  on  family  matters  so 
far  back,  but  that  to  the  best  of  his  hear- 
say recollection  his  father's  mother  was  a 
Lyman.  What  could  the  old  lady  be  driv- 
ing at?  he  thought. 

"  My  ancestor,  who  came  from  Ireland," 
continued  Miss  Tabitha  Magraw,  "had  a 
daughter  (the  name  was  spelled  McRagh 
then)  who  married  a  Lyman.  Their  daugh- 
ter was  your  grandmother.  I  had  heard 
that  she  married  a  Hardy,  but  I  did  not 


A  LONG  DAY,  WITH  AN  ADVENTURE.      133 

know  till  I  got  this  (drawing  a  letter  out  of 
her  pocket),  that  her  husband  was  another 
distant  descendant  of  the  same  family  through 
the  male  line.  Do  you  know  Dr.  Pliny  Nor- 
cross,  of  Hightown  ?  " 

It  now  began  to  dawn  upon  Nicholas 
what  the  old  lady  was  "  driving  at ;  "  and 
when  she  showed  him  the  letter  of  six 
foolscap  pages,  directed  to  Squire  Gammel, 
of  Fenwick,  and  by  him  remailed  to  New 
Harbor,  he  laughed  to  think  what  an  inflic- 
tion he  had  saved  himself  by  putting  some 
one  else  in  the  antiquarian  doctor's  way. 
(It  appeared  that  Squire  Gammel,  pressed 
with  other  business,  had  not  found  an  early 
opportunity  to  write  to  Hightown,  and  after 
he  did  so,  the  worthy  doctor,  meaning  to 
be  thorough,  and  finding  the  matters  in 
question  entirely  to  his  taste,  had  spent 
months  in  looking  up  and  preparing  his 
reply.  The  long  letter,  .which  contained  a 


134  THE   WOODEN    SPOON. 

X 

tremendous  amount  of  learned  information, 
and  rung  all  the  changes  on  McRagh,  Me- 
Graw,  and  Magraw,  and  old  Solomon  Hardee's 
wooden  spoon,  had  been  in  Miss  Tabitha's 
hands  only  a  week.) 

"  According  to  this,"  resumed  the  lady, 
"  you  are  related  to  me,  not  only  through 
your  grandmother's  branch  of  the  family,  but 
by  our  common  ancestor,  for  the  wife  of 
Sheldon  McRagh,  who  came  to  America,  .was 
old  Solomon  Hardee's  granddaughter." 

Nicholas  confessed  that  it  was  all  very 
interesting,  and  did  his  polite  best  to  appear 
interested.  There  was  much  more  talk  be- 
tween them,  though  neither  of  them  waxed 
very  enthusiastic  over  the  great  estate  in 
chancery ;  and  when  at  last  the  young  man 
rose  to  go,  she  said  that  she  had  something 
more  to  communicate  at  some  other  time, 
and  begged  him  not  to  feel  disagreeably 
about  her  horse's  running  away.  It  was 


A   LONG   DAY,  WITH   AN  ADVENTURE.      135 

only  an  accident,  some  nervous  freak  of  the 
good  creature,  and  not  the  singing  at  all, 
for  he  was  well  enough  used  to  college 
noises,  and  surely  the  chance  that  had  so 
curiously  brought  two  "  double  cousins  "  to- 
gether ought  not  to  be  regretted. 

Nicholas  walked  home  with  Sidney,  lec- 
turing him  by  the  way,  half  seriously,  on 
his  habits  of  mysterious  absence.  He  re- 
ported nothing  of  what  he  had  seen,  or  of 
the  young  fellow's  attraction  at  the  Magraw 
house,  but  it  leaked  out  after  a  while,  and 
then  the  merciless  boarders  parodied  the 
old  primer  rhyme  and  set  it  to  "  Cocache- 
lunk." 

"Little  lambkin,  silly  ranger, 
Keep  your  pasture  safe  and  sue: 
Rambling  only  leads  to  Granger 
Such  as  yon  can  ne'er  endure." 


136  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 


CHAPTER  VIL 

A  SPLURGE,  AND  A  LAW-CASE. 

A  Babylonish  dialect 

Which  learned  pedants  much  affect 

It  was  a  party-colored  dress 

Df  patched  and  piebald  languages. 

Fwas  English  cut  on  Greek  and  Latin 
i  ike  fustian  heretofore  on  satin.  —  HODIBRAS. 

rT"'ERM  bills,  board -bills,  fuel -bills,  book- 
bills,  tailors'  and  shoemakers'  bills,  col- 
lege fees  and  other  fees,  society  assessments, 
secret  -  society  expenses,  boating  expenses, 
campaign  taxes,  occasional  oyster-spreads, 
miscellaneous  incidentals,  —  it  was  truly  a 
formidable  column  of  items  that  stared  Hardy 
in  the  face  at  the  end  of  Freshman  year ;  and 
by  the  time  the  annual  electioneering  was 


A   SPLURGE,   AND   A   LAW-CASE.  137 

over  (during  which  he  worked  with  all  his 
pluck  and  will)  there  was  not  enough  left  of 
his  Hightown  earnings  to  last  him  till  Thanks- 
giving recess.  Hereafter  he  must  study  the 
art  of  retrenchment,  as  well  as  the  other 
arts.  He  wished  he  had  begun  that  kind 
of  study  a  little  sooner.  In  fact,  when  he 
thought  over  the  matter  seriously,  he  saw 
where  he  could  have  saved  nearly  two  hun- 
dred dollars,  without  any  injury  to  his  health 
or  his  social  standing  in  his  class.  That  sum 
would  have  to  go  down  in  the  Experience 
account  —  the  big  ledger  where  most  col- 
lege boys  are  obliged  to  set  a  good  many 
sorry  balances. 

However,  our  friend  Nick  was  not  entirely 
unprovided  for.  He  was  of  age  now,  and 
could  use  the  proceeds  of  the  little  "  live- 
stock "  investment  started  for  him  in  his 
childhood  by  the  kindness  of  old  Jerry 
Thorpe  the  drover,  and  Uncle  Ben  James. 


138  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

This  amounted  to  nine  hundred  dollars;  and 
by  cutting  off  the  "  sundries,"  and  abating 
some  of  the  rip  and  tear  in  the  athletic 
department,  and  driving  sharper  bargains 
with  "  good-fellowship,"  and  shutting  down 
the  "  pocket-money "  waste-gate,  he  would 
be  able  to  make  that  sum  go  a  long  way. 
He  decided  not  to  join  a  Sophomore  secret 
society,  preferring  to  put  a  strain  on  his  popu- 
larity (if  it  came  to  that)  rather  than  on  his 
means ;  and  as  to  the  popularity,  his  election 
to  the  vice-secretaryship  of  the  Athenics  (an 
office  in  the  line  of  high  promotion)  gave 
him  reason  to  be  well  satisfied  on  that  score. 
At  all  events  he  would  hold  up  his  head  and 
pay  his  debts;  and  if  on  the  one  hand  he 
could  not  afford  to  drudge  for  a  university 
"  scholarship,"  or  submit  to  receive  the  en- 
dowment gratuities  allowed  to  indigent 
students,  on  the  other  hand  he  was  willing 
to  own  that  he  could  not  afford  the  expense 


A  SPLURGE,   AND   A  LAW-CASE.  139 

of  billiards,  treats,  club  suppers,  private 
theatricals,  or  u  pow-wow  "  masquerades. 

Setting  out  on  his  Sophomore  career  with 
these  resolutions,  young  Hardy  had  a  clear 
field  before  him,  and  asked  no  favors.  He 
stuck  to  his  studies,  aiming  all  the  fime  to 
build  broad  rather  than  to  climb  high ;  and 
at  the  rate  of  work  he  prescribed  for  himself 
he  found  margin  for  a  good  deal  of  reading 
and  volunteer  discipline. 

During  the  latter  part  of  the  winter  he 
gained  one  first  prize  in  English  composition, 
and  entered  the  lists  of  the  annual  Athenic 
Prize  Debate.  The  theme  chosen  for  the 
forensic  strife  was  "  Personal  Beauty —  the  re- 
sult of  mental  rather  than  physical  culture." 
The  preparation  engaged  a  variety  of  talent, 
Hardy  representing  the  extreme  common- 
sense  element  among  the  disputants,  and 
Marshall  McCracken  the  bombastic  extreme. 
The  selection  of  sides  too,  on  the  debate,  by 


140  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

these  right  and  left  men,  was  as  odd  and 
striking  as  the  difference  of  their  characters. 
Hardy,  a  broad-shouldered  jithlete,  defending 
the  glories  of  mind,  and  McCracken,  a  slender 

dandy,  vaunting  the  glories  of  muscle,  sug- 

« 
gested  a  lion  and  a  circus-pony  exploiting  in 

swapped  skins.  The  orators  in  the  contest 
were  Hal  Stanley  and  Willard  Faunce,  and 
right  well  they  performed  their  part  when 
the  time  came.  But  my  reader's  interest  will 
naturally  centre  in  the  speeches  of  McCracken 
and  Hardy ;  and  I  am  bound  to  say  that 
these  made  the  greatest  sensation.  Stanley 
and  Faunce  were  eloquent,  and  each  was 
heartily  applauded  for  "  a  downright  good 
thing ; ''  but  Hardy  was  original,  and  McCra- 
cken  was  ridiculous,  so  that  when  they  talked 
the  cheers  came  in  pretty  much  anywhere. 
Talked !  That  was  no  name  for  the  per- 
formance of  the  dandy  disputant  on  Prize 
Debate  night.  Athenic  Hall  was  full,  for 


A  SPLURGE,   AND   A  LAW-CASE.  141 

everybody  expected  a  treat  when  McCracken 
should  spread  himself.  As  he  stepped  for- 
ward to  take  his  turn,  faultless  as  his  tailor 
could  make  him,  in  white  vest,  black  pants 
and  "  swallow-tail,"  dove-colored  neck-tie,  and 
kid  —  yes,  he  had  actually  taken  off  but  one 
of  his  white  kid  gloves  !  —  a  tempest  of  clap- 
pings hailed  him,  so  obstreperous  and  so 
prolonged  that  for  some  little  time  it  was 
impossible  for  him  to  begin.  McCracken's 
self-conceit  was  as  inordinate  as  his  rhetoric, 
and  it  was  this  that  gave  point  and  richness 
to  the  joke  of  such  a  welcome,  for  the  sim- 
pleton accepted  the  applause  as  proof  of 
popular  favor  and  genuine  admiration,  and 
bowed  right  and  left  with  all  the  impressment 
of  a  Brignoli. 

"MR.  President — Gentlemen  of  the  Com- 
mittee of  Award,"  he  said,  as  soon  as  the 
throng  had  ceased  their  salute,  and  begun 
to  wait  for  him,  —  "I  stand  in  this  arena  to- 


142  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

night  as  the  champion  of  that  noble  and 
exquisite  art  by  whose  potent  magic  the 
white  hands  of  celestial  Eygeia  braid  the 
thews  of  Strength  and  Stature,  and  summon 
to  smiling  life  the  miraculous  charms  of  the 
human  face  divine;  that  art  which  in  the 
ancient  stadium  and  gymnasia  of  Greece 
developed  the  heroic  gods,  and  the  volup- 
tuous forms  of  the  nymphs  and  naiads  of  the 
classic  age  ;  that  art  whose  plastic  triumphs 
gave  to  the  wizard  pencil  of  Apelles  its 
beatific  inspirations,  and  created  the  tran- 
scendent perfections  and  splendid  archetypes 
which  supplied  models  to  the  thaumaturgic 
chisels  of  Phidias  and  Praxiteles;  that  art, 
gentlemen,  supplementary  of  all  arts,  —  the 
Spartan  school  of  health,  the  Olympian  drill 
of  motion,  the  ultimate  minister  of  aesthetic 
delight,  the  prime  factor  and  foster  of  cor- 
poreal loveliness,  the  glorious,  the  sublime, 


A  SPLURGE,  AND  A  LAW-CASE.  143 

the  imperial,  the  magnificent  art  of  E-X- 
E-R-C-I-S-E  !  " 

The   student    audience  —  seniors,    juniors, 

• 

sophomores,  and  freshmen  together  —  all 
listened  with  about  equal  appreciation  to 
this  opening  splurge.  The  oldest  of  them 
had  never  heard  the  origin  of  the  Greek  gods 
and  goddesses  accounted  for  in  just  that 
way,  but  the  speaker's  magniloquent  descrip- 
tion, as  well  as  his  thrilling  attitude  and 
tones,  and  gestures,  and  general  style  of 
doing  it,  wrought  them  up  to  a  high  pitch 
of  feeling,  and  the  wonderful  stroke  of  rhe- 
torical skill  with  which  the  boy  contrived  to 
pack  the  biggest  part  of  his  argument  into 
his  exordium  was  beyond  all  praise  of  words. 
However,  they  managed  to  hold  on  to  them- 
selves till  he  had  stated  his  subject,  ana 
then  their  mocking  applause  broke  forth 
with  such  energy  and  uproar  that  he  had  to 
stop,  and  bow  his  acknowledgments  again. 


144  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

Every  gracious  bend  of  his  dapper  person, 
and  finally  the  majestic  sweep  of  his  white 
glove,  commanding  silence,  of  course  made 
the  fellow's  conceit  more  ridiculous,  and  the 
fun  more  excruciating.  From  that  time  till 
his  speech  was  done  it  was  only  the  occa- 
sional desire  of  the  audience  to  get  hold  of 
a  fresh  specimen  of  bombast,  to  make  sport 
of,  that  secured  him  any  hearing  at  all.  The 
demonstrations  were  "  parliamentary,"  too, 
no  hooting,  and  no  very  boisterous  stamping, 
or  banging  of  canes,  being  allowed,  as  in 
class-meetings ;  even  the  laughter,  at  least 
the  loudest  of  it,  was  mostly  confined  to  the 
Freshmen  and  Sophs,  the  general  under- 
standing being  to  burlesque  a  dignified 
approval  just  far  enough  to  keep  up  the 
farce,  in  which  McCracken  was  playing  chief, 
under  the  delicious  delusion  that  he  was 
making  himself  the  most  popular  man  in 
college.  He  went  on  (when  he  could)  swing- 


A   SPLURGE,   AND   A   LAW-CASE.  145 

ing  his  arms  and  swaying  his  swallow-tails 
to  emphasize  his  fluent  periods,  and  pro- 
nouncing his  words  with  the  crisp  assurance 
and  smart  precision  of  a  circus  manager 
advertising  his  performing  elephants. 

"  Mr.  President,  and  Gentlemen  of  the  Com- 
mittee of  Award  :  As  theN  kingly  cedar,  or 
the  god-like  palm,  growing  grandly  towards 
the  empyrean  blue,  gathers  vigor  from  its 
wrestling  with  the  fourfold  blasts  of  cir- 
cumambient heaven,  and  stiffens  its  swelling 
bulk  in  the  frigid  rigors  of  hibernal  cold, 
and  indurates  its  unvestured  limbs,  and 
sweetens  its  aspiring  sap,  under  naked  sol- 
stitial suns  and  mellifluous  nocturnal  dews, 
till,  crowned  with  consummate  splendor  and 
grace,  it  waves  its  emerald  locks  and  charms 
with  its  matchless  fairness  the  wishful  trav- 
eller from  afar;  so,  by  the  discipline  of  phys- 
ical culture,  the  sacred  human  form  [burst 
'  of  hand-clappings  checked  by  the  president's 
10 


146  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

gavel]  conquers  adorning  favors  from  all 
the  contributary  elements,  thrives  Anteus- 
like  from  the  earth,  and  wins  from  infinite 
air  and  sun  the  thousand  chameleon-dyes  of 
beauty,  till  shape,  and  face,  and  feature,  rav- 
ishingly  perfect,  enchant  the  enraptured  eye, 
and  witch  the  world  with  admiration  and 
love."  [Thunder-peals  of  applause  and  mer- 
riment that  shook  the  walls,  and  lasted  full 
two  minutes  and  a  half.] 

The  ne  plus  uUra  of  hifalutin  was 
reached  when  the  gushing  young  orator 
grew  sentimental.  The  mingling  of  pathos 
and  bathos  was  altogether  overwhelming. 

"  Go  with  me,  Mr.  President,  and  Gentle- 
men of  the  Committee  of  Award,  into  the 
great  metropolis,  and  behold  the  fair  beings 
whose  presence  glorifies  [loud  laughter]  its 
bustling  fanes  of  business,  and  its  haunts  of 
perspiring  toil.  Visit  the  graceful  priest- 
esses of  the  great  -hotel-kitchens  [derisive 


A  SPLURGE,  AND   A  LAW-CASE.  147 

applause],  the  radiant  muses  of  the  vast 
factories  and  work-shops  [increased  commo- 
tion], the  queens  of  the  laundry,  and  the 
goddesses  of  the  bakery  and  confectionery  1 
[Deafening  applause  and  smothered  interjec- 
tions of  "  good,  good  ! "]  Maidens  poor  and 
portionless,  but  strong  with  enforced  mus- 
cular exercise,  undisguised  by  meretricious 
charms  of  sparkling  jewelry  or  gaudy  opu- 
lence of  dress,  you  shall  see  them  beautiful 
as  Cleopatra  or  Trojan  Helen  [great  ap- 
plause], with  cheeks  fresh  and  pure  as  the 
dewy  air  of  early  morn  [vociferous  ap- 
plause], with  eyes  like  stars,  and  teeth  like 
pearls,  and  lips  like  Cupid's  bow  [uproarious 
applause  and  mirth].  Their  movements  are 
nature's  voiceless  poetry,  and  their  smile  is 
like  the  sunburst  that  limns  the  rainbow  on 
the  orient  sky  [frantic  applause  and  laugh- 
ter]. Health  bounds  in  their  veins,  and 
sweet  contentment  rests  like  a  dove  in  their 


148  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

innocent  hearts,  making  merry  music  bubble 
from  their  lips  like  ripples  of  bird-song  from 
the  nightingale-haunted  groves  of  Shiraz." 
[General  breakdown,  in  which  the  chairman 
himself  loses  the  last  remnant  of  his  gravity.] 

There  was  more  (and  worse)  of  the  like 
swell-rhetoric  before  the  inflated  Sophomore 
exhausted  his  gas.  But  we  have  had  enough 
of  Marshall  McCracken's  splurge.  I  scarcely 
need  say  that  when  he  had  finished,  and  made 
his  last  sweeping  bow  to  one  of  the  most 
wildly  responsive  audiences  that  ever  ridi- 
culed a  fool,  he  sat  down  with  the  firm  con- 
viction that  he  had  made  the  greatest  hit  of 
his  life. 

As  all  the  speeches  were  prepared  before- 
hand, and  committed  to  memory,  anything 
like  a  direct  reply  to  an  opponent  (without 
previous  arrangement)  was  impossible  in  the 
debate ;  so  that  it  would  have  been  out  of 
order  to  answer  Bombastes  McCracken,  even 


A   SPLURGE,   AND   A   LAW-CASE.  149 

if  he  had  said  anything  worth  answering. 
But  when  Hardy,  whose  turn  came  next, 
rose  to  commence  his  argument,  and  re- 
marked, with  a  lingering  twist  of  drollery 
in  his  recently  straightened  face,  that  he  did 
not  propose  to  waste  time  in  "  pinchbacking 
gold  or  pumpkin-lanternizing  the  sun  and 
moon,"  many  felt  a  strong  temptation  to 
suspect  that  he  had  volunteered  a  little  be- 
yond his  manuscript.  He  would  call  things 
by  their  right  names,  he  said,  and  he  severely 
criticised  the  gross  fashion  of  defining  per- 
sonal beauty  from  the  merely  animal  stand- 
point. Beauty  was  not  prettiness,  considered 
as  a  result  of  any  kind  of  "  culture."  Pretti- 
ness  was  an  accident.  It  was  accordingly 
to  be  thrown  out  of  this  discussion  entirely. 
The  question  contemplated  personal  beauty 
as  a  perfection;  as  the  flower  of  a  growth; 
as  the  summit  glory  of  generations  of  im- 
provement. He  reminded  his  judges  of  the 


150  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

significance  of  the  old  mythology  which 
makes  Venus  herself  the  daughter  of  Jove 
and  Dione  (the  divine  one),  and  of  the  name 
"  Urania "  (heavenly),  by  which  Plato,  the 
sublimest  of  philosophers,  called  her.  Beauty 
was  a  divine  idea.  Only  by  thought-cul- 
ture (the  exercise  of  the  divine  faculty  in 
man)  did  it  become  embalmed  in  art;  but 
the  same  thought's  first  results  had  already 
realized  it  in  nature.  The  Grecian  golden 
age  of  human  beauty  was  when  that  land 
was  the  world's  intellectual  school. 

He  went  on  to  compare  the  average  form 
and  face  of  the  intellectual  nations  with  the 
same  as  seen  in  the  ignorant  but  athletic 
nations,  showing  in  a  few  very  fine  sentences 
how  the  Gothic  conquests  (victories  of  mere 
brute  strength)  became  victories  of  beauty 
only  by  absorbing  the  culture  of  the  sub- 
jected tribes.  Passing  from  races  to  indi- 
viduals, he  portrayed  the  effects  of  mental 


A  SPLURGE,   AND   A   LAW-CASE.  151 

discipline  on  the  countenance  and  person; 
the  subtile  harmony,  and  brilliant  depth,  and 
exhaustless  variety  of  the  charms  of  that 
beauty  to  which  inward  education  has  given 
a  living  soul,  its  superiority  to  animal  pret- 
tiness,  and  the  far  more  enduring  character 
of  its  graces. 

"  Time  has  small  power 

O'er  features  the  mind  moulds.    Their  beauty  lasts 
As  fragrance  lingers  where  a  rose  hath  been; 
As  silenced  music  echoes  on  the  wind; 
As  suns  gone  down  leave  twilight  on  the  sky." 

In  answer  to  the  narrow  theory  that  must 
needs  account  for  all  physical  beauty  in  some 
physical  cause,  Hardy  grew  keenly  humoroua 
and  "  brought  down  the  house "  by  citing 
in  choicest  sarcasm  the  case  of  "the  hand- 
some thief"  (then  freshly  notorious  from  his 
recent  trial  and  sentence  at  the  County 
House  in  New  Harbor),  who  "  lived  a  little 
inside  his  income  and  a  little  outside  his 


152  THE  WOODEN   SPOON. 

means,"  and  had  never  done  or  been  taught 
to  do  a  day's  work  since  he  was  born. 
"  Physical  culture ! "  exclaimed  Nick,  straight- 
ening himself  with  ironical  indignation,  — 
"  here  is  a  man,  in  face  and  form  a  perfect 
Apollo,  over  whom  at  his  trial  all  the  girls 
ran  silly  wild,  but  who  from  a  boy  was 
too  constitutionally  tired  to  put  forth  a  sin- 
gle honest  effort,  and  whose  father  and 
mother  in  this  regard  were  prototypes  of 
himself.  And  yet  we  are  asked  to  believe 
that  physical  culture,  personal  or  ancestral, 
must  have  made  that  splendid  thief  and 
pickpocket !  Why,  the  fellow  is  so  intoler- 
ably lazy  that  he  will  never  exert  himself 
so  much  as  to  straighten  a  rope  till  he 
straightens  the  one  the  sheriff  finally  puts 
around  his  neck  1  No,  gentlemen,  the  nega- 
tive can  afford  to  give  our  theory  the 
credit  of  that  rascal's  beauty.  What  made 
Bill  Brian  handsome  was  living  by  his  wits  I " 


A   SPLURGE,   AND   A  LAW-CASE.  153 

And,  considering  that  no  moral  conditions 
entered  into  the  question  at  issue,  the  irony 
was  well  put. 

There  was  laughter  and  hand-clapping 
enough  while  Hardy  spoke ;  but  there  was 
no  more  ridicule.  No  one  better  than  he 
could  transport  an  audience  from  mockery 
to  serious  meaning,  and  make  them  like  it. 
And  when  he  wound  up  his  argument  with 
a  stirring  passage  which  illustrated  the  pre- 
eminence of  beauty  begotten  in  the  intellect 
by  the  legend  of  Athena  (the  patron  goddess 
of  the  society),  springing  from  the  brain  of 
Olympian  Jupiter,  the  genuine  applause  for 
him  was  quite  as  noisy  as  the  sham  applause 
had  been  for  McCracken. 

I  have  no  space  to  notice  the  indifferent 
speakers  in  the  debate,  who  went  in  merely 
to  improve  themselves,  and  with  no  expec- 
tation of  a  prize;  nor  to  describe  Faunce's 
strength  or  Stanley's  splendor.  The  pero 


154  THE  WOODEN    SPOON. 

ration  of  the  latter's  speech,  which  was  on 
Hardy's  side,  led  on  by  perfect  climax,  as 
only  a  born  orator  could  do  it,  to  the  apt 
lines  of  Akenside  with  which  he  ended : 

"  Mind,  mind  alone  (bear  witness  earth  and  heaven), 
The  living  fountains  in  itself  contains 
Of  beauteous  and  sublime :  here  hand  in  hand 
Sit  paramount  the  graces;  here  enthroned, 
Celestial  Venus,  with  divinest  airs, 
Invites  the  soul  to  never-fading  joy." 

It  only  remains  to  say  that  the  affirmative 
won  the  debate,  and  that  Hal  Stanley  and 
Nick  Hardy  took  the  first  and  second  prizes. 
No  one  was  dissatisfied  with  the  decision 
except  Marshall  McCracken.  No  one  had 
any  reason  to  be  except  perhaps  Willard 
Faunce,  but  he  was  too  much  of  a  man  to 
show  any  ill-humor.  McCracken  was  as- 
tonished at  his  defeat;  and  then  he  got 
into  high  dudgeon  about  it.  The  boys 
said  it  made  him  "  hard ; "  for  very  soon 


A  SPLURGE,  AND   A  LAW-CASE.  155 

afterwards  he  took  to  wearing  tom-cat  mous- 
taches and  smoking  long  nines. 


Bow:wow-wow-wow  !  woh !  woh ! 

"  Shoot  that  Fred  Drummond's  dog !"  And 
up  went  the  window  with  a  bang. 

Half  a  dozen  Sophomores  had  adjourned 
to  Hardy's  room  (now  in  the  second  story) 

• 

after  the  Prize  Debate,  to  congratulate  him, 
and  have  a  fresh  laugh  over  McCracken's 
great  splurge.  The  dog  that  had  disturbed 
them  by  his  moonlight  latrations  belonged 
to  a  very  innocent  Freshman  -who  lodged 
on  Traverse  Street  just  back  of  the  college 
buildings ;  and  this  was  by  no  means  the 
first  time  that  the  said  dog  had  excited 
the  vengeful  wrath  of  students  who  roomed 
within  ear- shot  of  his  bark.  That  the  brute 
still  lived  to  bark  was  a  wonder,  for  his 
destruction  had  been  solemnly  decreed  more 


156  THE  WOODEN    SPOON. 

than  once,  as  likewise  the  exemplary  punish- 
ment of  the  childlike  Freshman  who  had  the 
fatuity  to  think  of  keeping  a  dog  at  college. 
As  Hardy  had  no  such  dangerous  things  as 
fire-arms  in  his  possession,  the  proposal  to 
shoot  the  offending  beast  could  not  be  carried 
out,  and  after  hurling  a  boot-jack  and  several 
bottles  through  the  window,  the  company  sus- 
pended hostilities  and  held  a  council  of  war. 

"Let's  have  him  up  before  the  Areopa- 
gus ! "  suddenly  exclaimed  Matt  Calvin  ;  and 
the  idea  was  hailed  with  a  shout  of  general 
approval,  nobody  stopping  to  inquire  whether 
Calvin  meant  the  Freshman  or  the  dog. 

Great  was  the  consternation  of  poor  Fred 
Drummond  on  the  following  evening  to  find 
himself  confronted  in  his  study  by  two  tall 
"  lictors,"  who  summoned  him,  in  a  long  rig- 
marole full  of  tremendous  words,  to  appear 
forthwith  at  the  bar  of  the  Court  of  Areo- 
pagus, there  to  make  answer  before  the 


A  8PLUEGB,   AND  A  LAW-CASE.  157 

great  Kantankerus  Judex  to  the  charge  of 
violating  the  Nuisance  Act;  and  then  marched 
him  solemnly  up  to  one  of  the  rooms  in  North 
Central.  Passing  inside,  he  saw  ti  tribunal 
in  waiting,  and  all  the  paraphernalia  of  a 
criminal  trial,  that  gave  him  dim  suggestions 
of  the  Inquisition  and  Star  Chamber.  The 
judge  sat  on  an  elevated  chair,  and  ranged 
before  him  and  about  the  room  stood  several 
other  "  lictors,"  five  "  accusatores,"  and  on 
either  side  of  the  door  a  savage-looking 
"  carnifex,"  each  with  an  axe  in  his  hand. 
Over  the  judged  head  hung  a  picture,  drawn 
with  charcoal  on  a  huge  cardboard,  of  an 
axe,  and  a  dog  with  his  tail  cut  off  behind 
his  ears.  The  chief  lictor  "  called "  the 
court,  and  amid  awful  silence  an  accusator 
read: 

"  Plaintiff  Henricus  Sangfrodo  against 
Fredericus  Drummond  complaineth  for  that, 
whereas,  said  Drummond,  defendant,  here- 


158  THE  WOODEN   SPOON. 

tofore,  to  wit,  residing  in  the  city  of  New 
Harbor,  at  No.  10  Traverse  Street,  did 
wrongfully  and  injuriously  keep  a  certain 
dog,  the  said  defendant  well  knowing  that 
said  dog  was  used  and  accustomed  to  bark 
continuously  by  day  and  by  night,  and  that 
on  Tuesday,  the  13th  instant,  the  said  de- 
fendant did  then  and  there  allow  said  dog 
to  bark  continuously  from  early  in  the  day 
through  the  whole  day  and  night  following, 
and  did  thereby  hinder  and  prevent  plaintiff 
from  transactiEg  his  lawful  affairs  and  busi- 
ness by  day,  and  deprived*  him  of  his  sleep 
during  the  night,  so  as  injuriously  to  affect 
his  health  and  peaceful  enjoyment  of  his 
property,  and  to  the  damage  of  the  plaintiff 
to  the  amount  of  one  hundred  dollars  —  " 

By  this  time  the  unlucky  Freshman  was 
hopelessly  bewildered,  and  his  head  wag 
all  in  a  whirl.  One  impression,  however, 
doubly  distinct  by  sound  and  vision,  re- 


A  SPLURGE,  AND  A  LAW-CASE.     .       159 

mained  before  his  mind.  It  was  "  dog,  dog, 
DOG."  It  seemed  to  him  as  if  everybody 
in  the  room  was  saying  "  dog."  He  kept 
a  dog,  and  surely  something  terrible  was 
going  to  be  done  about  it.  Even  the  ad- 
juration "  So  help  you  Balbus,"  when  they 
"  swore  "  him,  did  not  discover  to  his  wan- 
dering wits  that  a  farce  was  being  played. 
He  sweated  and  stuttered  through  a  long, 
severe  examination,  after  which  the  great 
Kantankerus  Judex  (it  was  big  Heman 
Timothy  himself)  in  a  pompous  voice  ordered 

that  the  dog  should  "  be  killed,  or  effectually 

• 

and  forever  removed,"  and  that  the  defendant 
should  sign  a  contract  and  deposit  a  lock  of 
his  hair  as  security  that  it  should  be  done. 
Drummond,  all  in  a  dubious  daze,  felt  himself 
forced. through  these  ceremonious  formalities, 
and  then  the  two  "carnifices"  seized  what 
there  was  left  of  him,  blindfolded  him,  walked 
him  down-stairs,  across  the  Campus,  and 


160  THE   WOODEN   SPOON. 

around  two  squares,  then  through  a  door, 
where  they  left  him  under  a  stern  injunction 
not  to  remove  the  bandage  from  his  eyes  till 
he  had  recited  the  eleven  axioms  in  the 
first  book  of  Euclid.  When  the  exhausted 
Freshman  could  see  again  he  found  himself 
in  his  own  room. 

Hardy  (who  played  second  "  carnifex  "  in 
the  Areopagus  business,  and,  besides,  got  up 
the  legal  indictment  that  the  "accusator" 
read)  had  no  taste  or  disposition  for  bullying 
Freshmen,  and  the  court-trial  transaction  was 
the  nearest  he  ever  came  to  taking  part  in 

• 

anything  like  "hazing."  As  to  that  affair 
he  was  inclined  to  think  that  the  end  justified 
the  means.  The  dog  was  never  heard  from, 
or  heard  of  afterwards. 

When  Hardy  returned  to  his  room  that 
night  (after  three  hours'  absence),  he  found 
a  letter  tucked  under  his  door.  It  was  from 
Miss  Tabitha  Magraw. 


NICK  ASSISTS  AT  A  KETTLE-DBTJlk        161 


CHAPTER  Vin. 

IN  WHICH    NICK  "  ASSISTS  "   AT  A  KETTLE-DRUM. 

Chide  me  not,  laborious  band, 
For  the  idle  flowers  I  brought; 
Every  aster  in  my  hand 
Goes  home  loaded  with  a  thought. 

EMERSON. 

'  I  'HE  letter  which  Hardy  found  slipped 
tinder  his  door  contained  an  invitation 
—  in  fact,  a  rather  warm  request  —  for  him 
to  attend  "  the  Quarterly  Fair-hope  Kettle- 
drum," at  No.  209  Savin  Street,  that  day 
evening,  one  week. 

Nick  made   no   doubt   that  the   note   had 

coine    to    him    by    Sidney's    hands,    as    he 

bethought  him   that   Mrs.   Hinnipick  at  tea 

had  again  propounded  the  inevitable  inquiry 

11 


162  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

about  her  eon,  and  been  partially  comforted 
by  her  boarders'  confident  suggestion  that 
the  young  Romeo  was  lingering  where  hia 
Juliet  dwelt.  Indeed,  it  was  solely  Sid- 
ney's long  tarries  at  this  place,  and  the  oc- 
casional amusing  references  provoked  thereto 
at  table,  that  had  kept  Miss  Tabitha  Magraw 
in  our  hero's  remembrance  at  all.  It  was 
BO  long  now  since  the  affair  of  the  runaway 
horse,  that  he  would  otherwise  have  entirely 
forgotten  the  adventure,  and  all  parties  con- 
cerned in  it;  for  Sidney,  dreading  to  put 
new  material  into  the  hands  of  his  tormentors 
at  home,  had  never  told  that  he  was  a  fellow- 
boarder,  and  Miss  Tabitha  had  not  broken 
silence, —  and  she  had  now  found  out  only 
by  accident  how  directly  she  could  com- 
municate with  her  "double  cousin." 

Hardy,  soon  after  his  involuntary  visit  to 
the  Magraw  house,  had  learned  what  little 
the  outside  world  knew  of  Miss  Tabitha, — 


NICK  ASSISTS  AT   A  KETTLE-DBUM.  163 

not  from  the  timorously  secretive  Sidney, 
but  from  his  companions  of  the  evening  walk 
on  Linden  Street.  The  druggist  who  owned 
the  broken  window  had  guessed  who  she 
was,  and  volunteered  to  them  some  informa- 
tion ;  and  it  appeared  that  among  former 
classes,  when  her  neat  but  noticeable  turn- 
out used  to  be  seen  almost  daily  passing 
the  college  buildings,  she  was  always  known 
as  "the  countess."  Of  course  Nick's  com- 
panions caught  up  the  title,  and  (so  long  as 
the  novelty  of  his  adventure  lasted)  contin- 
ued to  din  him  with  it,  and  with  the  "  great 
expectations "  he  had  probably  come^  into, 
till  he  privately  consigned  the  hero  business 
—  and  the  "countess"  herself — to  the  list 
of  intolerable  bores.  The  excitements  of  the 
closing  term,  and  engagements  during  sum- 
'  mer  vacation,  which  kept  him  from  coming 
in  contact  with  Squire  Gaminel  or  old  Dr. 
Norcros8,  put  the  whole  matter  of  Miss  Tab- 


164  THE   WOODEN  SPOON. 

itha  and  her  wonderful  family  revelations  out 
of  bis  mind.  During  the  months  since  Soph- 
omore year  began  be  had  not  happened  to 
catch  a  glimpse  of  her  on  the  street,  in 
pony-wagon  or  sleigh.  He  had  long  ceased 
to  think  there  was  any  reason  for  expecting 
to  renew  her  acquaintance,  much  less  to 
receive  a  letter  from  her. 

The  message  tucked  under  his  door  puz- 
zled him — particularly  one  expression  in  it 
about  desiring  his  "  presence  and  assistance." 
He  had  attended  one  kettle-drum  party,  a 
rather  elegant  affair,  designed,  it  seemed  to 
him,  for  match-making  mammas  to  introduce 
their  daughters,  and  for  which  it  cost  him 
considerable  to  dress  himself  up ;  and  he 
had  concluded  that,  until  he  was  a  Senior 
at  least,  and  had  more  leisure,  he  should 
not  go  to  any  more.  And  here  was  an  invi- 
tation sent  him  not  only  to  be  present,  but 
to  assist  at  a  kettle-drum  1 


NICK  ASSISTS   AT   A   KETTLE-DRUM.         165 

His  first  impulse  was  to  write  a  regret, 
and  dismiss  the  subject ;  but  second  thoughts 
convinced  him  that  he  could  not  afford  to 
decline  without  giving  any  reason.  Miss 
Tabitha  was  not  a  "  match-making  mamma," 
nor  a  match-making  aunt,  either,  for,  by  the 
looks  of  things,  her  niece  was  already  pro- 
vided for.  His  "  assistance "  could  not  be 
wanted  in  that  direction.  He  put  the  note 
aside  for  further  consideration.  The  end  of 
it  was  that  he  thought  better  of  the  party, 

and  went. 

^ 

A  quiet  surprise  awaited  Hardy's  arrival 
at  No.  209.  When  he  entered  the  parlors, 
nerved  and  armed  to  meet  a  battery  of  jew- 
elled beauty,  and  to  face  the  music  of  a 
chime  of  belles,  and  saw  twenty  or  thirty 
poor  women  seated  in  groups,  sewing  and 
knitting,  or  learning  to  sew  and  knit,  a  spasm 
of  self-ridicule  relaxed  him  so  suddenly  that 


166  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

he  almost  forgot  his  politeness.  Sidney  could 
probably  have  told,  him  what  a  "Fair- hope 
Kettle-drum"  was  like,  if  he  had  not  stood 
too  much  on  his  dignity  to  ask  the  young- 
ster. The  fact  was  that  a  small  association 
of  wealthy  and  beneficent  ladiea,  under  the 
name  of  the  u  Fair-hope  Band,"  of  which 
Miss  Tabitha  was  the  head-centre,  made  their 
rendezvous  at  the  Magraw  house  once  in 
three  months,  to  give  the  ignorant  and  hard- 
worked  mothers  of  the  lowly  class,  whom 
their  kindness  had  been  helping  and  teaching, 
a  little  cheerful  entertainment,  and  a  new 
quarter's  God-speed.  Hardy  noticed  how 
their  worn  faces  kindled  while  Miss  Marga- 
ret Granger  played  sweet  airs  for  them  on 
the  piano  (and  for  a  wonder  Sidney  was  not 
there  to  watch  her  execution  and  turn  the 
music-leaves),  and  how  delighted  they  looked 
while  their  gentle  teachers,  the  ladies  of  the 
a  band,"  praised  their  work,  or  unrolled  small 


NICK  ASSISTS  AT   A   KETTLE-DRUM.        167 

parcels  of  cloth  which  were  to  be  their  mate- 
rial for  future  efforts  at  home.  At  a  single 
glance  he  so  far  comprehended  everything 
that  he  could  respond  with  tolerable  com- 
posure to  Miss  Tabitha's  welcome. 

"  It  is  quite  a  long  time  since  we  saw  each 
other,"  she  said,  smilingly  shaking  hands. 
"  But  I  have  remembered  you,  and  I  be- 
lieved you  were  the  kind  of  man  not  to  be 
offended  at  an  invitation  to  such  a  gathering 
as  this." 

Hardy  assured  her  that  she  was  entirely 
correct  in  her  judgment  of  him,  and  that 
he  was  heartily  at  her  service.  He  was 
prepared  not  only  to  find  great  pleasure  in 
attending  the  Fair-hope  Kettle-drum,  but  also 
to  make  himself  useful,  "  if  not  ornamental." 

"  Ah !  that  was  well  said,  and  I  shall  put 
you  to  the  test,"  rejoined  Miss  Tabitha. 
"  You  have  come  just  in  time  to  read  to 
us.  These  tired  sisters  of  ours  have  few 


168  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

intellectual  treats.  You  shall  make  your  own 
selection." 

And  as  soon  as  she  had  introduced  him 
personally  to  each  of  the  ladies  of  the  "band," 
and  by  name  to  all  the  company,  she  led 
him  to  the  book-table.  Any  one  less  quick 
at  an  emergency  would  have  felt  somewhat 
confused  to  be  caught  and  harnessed  in,  on 
BO  short  notice,  to  entertain  a  female  meeting. 
Hardy  thought  of  Longfellow's  Psalm  of  Life, 
and  inquired  sotto  voce  if  that  "  would  do." 

"  Fresh,  no  doubt,  to  most  of  them,  — 
good,  if  not  fresh,"  whispered  Miss  Tabitha. 

Whereupon,  holding  a  book  open  in  his 
band  for  appearance'  sake,  Nicholas  slowly  re- 
cited the  Psalm  of  Life  to  the  company,  from 
beginning  to  end ;  and  being  a  very  good 
elocutionist,  and  master  of  natural  emphasis, 
he  seemed  to  interest  the  educated  women 
as  much  as  the  ignorant  ones  in  the  noble 
thoughts  of  the  brave  old  poem. 


NICK   ASSISTS   AT  A   KETTLE-DRUM.         169 

The  poor  working  mothers  looked  as  if  they 
wanted  to  rise  up  and  cheer  him  to  the 
echo  of — 

"  Let  us  then  be  up  and  doing 
With  a  heart  for  any  fate; 
Still  achieving,  still  pursuing, 
Learn  to  labor  and  to  wait." 

Some  of  them  had  brought  with  them  their 
little  children,  whom  admiration  of  their  sur- 
roundings kept  wonderfully  quiet.  Apart 
from  the  real  pleasure  he  found  in  his  audi- 
ence, the  reader  felt  rewarded,  when  at  the 
close  of  his  little  performance  a  venerable 
clergyman  came  in/  to  hear  the  ladies  say, 
"  You  have  missed"  a  feast."  He  wondered 
at  his  satisfaction  in  so  small  a  thing.  But 
there  was  nothing  to  wonder  at.  He  was 
among  people  a  part  of  whom  were  needy, 
and  all  of  whom  were  sincere :  and  with 
such  waiters  and  receivers  a  trifling  ser- 
vice is  more  thankful  than  splendid  offerings 


170  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

\ 

to  the  false  and  overfed.  Presently,  while 
her  niece  and  two  other  ladies  sang  an  appro- 
priate song  in  trio,  Miss  Tabitha  and  several 
of  the  "band"  retired  intent  on  hospitable 
preparations,  and  Hardy  made  the  acquaint- 
ance of  the  aged  clergyman.  The  supper, 
brought  in  upon  trays,  was  very  plain  and 
substantial,  consisting  chiefly  of  coffee  and 
nice  sandwiches;  and  when  all  had  been 
well  fed,  and  made  happy  by  a  half-hour's 
sociable  chat,  the  clergyman  led  in  brief 
devotions,  every  one  joining  in  the  Lord's 
Prayer. 

This  was  the  closing  exercise  of  the 
"  Quarterly  Fair-hope  Kettle-drum,"  for  these 
meetings  always  broke  up  early.  It  was  a 
study  to  our  young  Sophomore  (whose  early 
privations  were  fresh  in  his  recollection)  to 
watch  the  grateful  faces  of  the  poor  women, 
and  listen  to  their  low-spoken  "  God-bless- 
yous,"  as  they  went  away  with  the  bundles 


NICK  ASSISTS  AT  A  KETTLE-DBUM.        171 

of  work  they  were  to  do,  and  with  their 
wages,  paid  them  in  orders  on  well-known 
dealers,  mostly  for  fuel  and  food. 

By  the  time  the  affair  of  that  evening 
was  over  he  felt  that  he  had  gained  a  use- 
ful experience  at  small  coat,  and  Miss  Tabi- 
tha  Magraw  had  risen  in  his  estimation  im- 
mensely. 

When  all  the  company  had  gone,  that  good 
lady,  who  had  asked  Nicholas  "as  a  favor" 
to  remain,  apologized  to  him  for  further  re- 
quiring his  "  assistance,"  and  sat  down  with 
him  by  the  fire  for  a  confidential  talk.  "  Peo- 
ple call  me  a  woman  of  leisure,"  she  said, 
"but  though  I  am  old  enough  to  be  deeply 
interested  in  the  past,  you  see  I  do  not  give 
up  my  interest  in  the  present.  Whatever 
concern  I  feel  in  the  ancient  matters  of  our 
family  is  chiefly  due  to  the  fact  that  I  hap- 
pen to  possess  some  things  which  may  be 
of  service  to  other  descendants,  and  which 


172  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

I  am  unwilling  should  be  lost  at  my  death. 
Some  time  after  you  were  here  last  summer 
I  answered  Squire  Caramel's  letter,,  giving 
such  information  as  I  had ;  and  lately  he  has 
sent  me  another  letter,  containing  some  sin- 
gular discoveries  Relative  to  the  old  Gartney 
will.  This  was  found,  it  seems,  in  the  old 
Hanford  house,  where  Hiram  Gartney  sud- 
denly died  a  century  ago.  I  think  you  told 
me  you  were  with  the  lawyer  at  the  time 
this  will  came  into  his  hands.  Can  you 
remember  ever  hearing  him  say  how  it  was 
found  ?  " 

"  Mysteriously  resurrected  from  an  old  cab- 
inet, just  as  lost  wills  always  are,"  said  Har- 
dy, laughing.  And  then,  anxious  to  oblige 
his  hostess,  he  "  put  on  his  thinking-cap,"  and 
addressed  himself  seriously  to  the  subject. 
He  informed  Mi*s  Tabitha  that  he  did  recol- 
lect Squire  Gammel's  mentioning  once  about 
the  finding  of  the  will;  that  it  was  in  an 


NICK   ASSISTS   AT    A   KETTLE-DRUM.        173 

ancient  house  in  North  Timlow,  about  five 
iniles  from  Fenwick, —  in  the  attic  lumber- 
room, —  in  a — yes,  he  believed  it  really  was 
an  "  old  cabinet,"  —  one  of  those  queer  old 
treasure-traps  that  fancy-joiners  delighted  to 
make,  generations  ago,  full  of  impossible  tills 
and  invisible  panel-pockets.  "  That  old  cab- 
inet, or  secretary,  or  whatever  you'd  call  it, 
lay  among  a  lot  of  broken  furniture,  going 
to  pieces  or  gone  to  pieces,  and  the  old 
parchment  was  accidentally  seen  sticking 
through  one  of  its  cracks;  and  the  rats 
had  —  " 

"  0  !  "  ejaculated  Miss  Tabitha;  interrupt- 
ing him  with  an  earnest  gesture.  "  That 
old  secretary  never  rightfully  belonged  to 
the  Hanfords !  When  I  was  a  little  girl  ten 
years  old,  I  remember  my  great-grandfather 
telling  me  about  that  old  secretary,  that 
Sheldon  McRagh  himself  brought  from  Eng- 
land. It  was  always  in  the  Magraw  family, 


174  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

and  ought  to  be  now.  I  wonder  how  it  ever 
got  so  neglected  and  broken.  Perhaps  one 
of  the  tills  contained  the  rest  of —  Well,  let 
that  go.  Hiram  Gartney  was  my  great- 
grandfather's cousin,  and  there  is  a  story 
that  ho  took  some  wicked  advantage  of  the 
Magraws  during  the  terribly  hard  times  be- 
fore the  French  and  Indian  war.  His  sister's 
children,  the  Hanfords,  got  hold  of  his  prop- 
erty, but  they  never  prospered,  and  by  a 
strange  providence  the  will,  that  gave —  But 
really,  Mr.  Hardy,  you  must  be  astonished  to 
hear  me  run  on.  Your  story  called  up  some 
things  I  had  lost.  This  correspondence  only 
told  me  the  will  was  found  in  the  Hanford 
house,  and  gave  no  particulars.  Pardon  an 
•Id  woman's  excitement,  and  say  if  you  re- 
member anything  more." 

"  Nothing  more,"  said  Nicholas,  smiling! 
and  assuring  her  that  her  excitement  was 
excusable  and  perfectly  natural.  "But  go 


NICK  ASSI8T8  AT  A  KETTLE-DRUM.        175 

on,  Miss  Magraw.  I  am  really  curious  to 
know  what  discoveries  my  good  friend  the 
squire  has  made." 

"  Well,  to  begin  with,  the  old  Hanford 
house  has  been  pulled  down,  and  —  But  what 
am  I  thinking  of?  I'll  bring  the  letter,  and 
read  it."  She  brought  the  letter,  and  then, 
putting  it  into  Hardy's  hands,  urged  him  to 
read  it  himself  aloud.  It  was  not  long,  but 
it  certainly  contained  an  odd  piece  of  news. 
It  stated  that,  by  the  suggestion  of  Dr.  Nor- 
cross,  who  in  correspondence  with  Squire 
Gammel  had  learned  that  the  old  Hanford 
house  was  to  be  destroyed,  it  had  been  de- 
termined to  have  interested  parties  on  the 
spot  to  watch  the  demolition,  and  be  wit- 
nesses to  anything  that  might  happen  to  be 
found.  The  old  doctor  conceived  that  the 
rats  or  mice  might  have  torn  away  the  dry 
parchment  rather  for  bedding  than  for  food, 
and  if  possibly  there  were  any  bits  of  the 


176  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

old  will,  however  small,  lodged  in  the  cran- 
nies of  the  house,  he  thought  it  would  be 
a  pity  if  the  right  persons  should  not  know 
it.  Accordingly,  the  squire  himself,  and  two 
of  the  claimants  to  the  Gartney  property,  had 
repaired  to  North  Timlow,  and  were  present 
when  the  old  building  was  pulled  down.  A 
handsome  fee  to  the  workmen,  and  a  good 
understanding  with  the  contractor,  gave  them 
a  fair  field,  and  during  the  whole  process 
of  destruction,  but  especially  of  the  upper 
part,  a  dozen  pairs  of  eyes  were  keenly  alert, 
looking  for  rats'  nests  and  parchment  rags. 
Sure  enough,  the  nests  were  there  in  abun- 
dance, and,  what  was  more  to  the  purpose, 
they  found  in  them,  and  scattered  behind  the 
wainscots,  small  scraps  of*  writing  to  the 
number  of  many  hundreds  !  Not  a  twentieth 
part  of  these  belonged  to  the  old  will,  but 
when  the  parchment  had  been  carefully  sort- 
ed from  the  paper,  there  were  enough  gemr 


NICK  ASSISTS   AT   A   KETTLE-DKUM.         177 

ine  pieces  to  make  a  handful.  An  expert 
was  hired  to  put  these  together,  and  the 
result  was  that  the  names  of  Nancy  Lyman 
and  Luke  Hanford,  each  coupled  with  a  des- 
ignated bequest  in  money,  were  brought  out 
plain,  and  also  the  mutilated  sentence,  "... 
give  and  be  ...  to  J  ...  m  .  .  .  .  ie  my 
old  private  e a}T  .  .  .  am." 

The  squire  wrote  in  the  letter  that  neither 
the  expert  nor  himself  had  been  able  to  make 
anything  out  of  this,  and  he  therefore  sent 
a  fac-simile  to  Miss  Magraw,  for  her  exami- 
nation and  opinion.  Nicholas  became  intense- 
ly interested  in  4his  singular  story  of  the 
partial  restoration  of  the  old  will.  When 
he  had  finished  reading  he  paused  to  pore 
over  the  fragment  in  the  fac-simile. 

"You  have  not  read  it  all,"  said  Miss 
Tabitha.  He  turned  the  sheet,  and  saw  the 
postscript  : 

"  Should  you   despair  of  finding  the  key 
12 


178  THE  WOODEN   SPOON. 

to  the  broken  writing,  I  would  advise  yon 
to  send  for  Mr.  Nicholas  Hardy,  a  college 
student  in  the  Sophomore  class.  He  once 
saw  the  original  will  at  my  office,  and  being 
a  young  man  of  quick  faculty,  he  may  be 
able  to  assist  you." 

Miss  Tabitha  laughed  as  Nick  stammered 
over  his  own  praises,  taken  completely  by 
surprise. 

"And  the  young  man  has  assisted  me  al- 
ready very  materially,"  she  said. 

Hardy  looked  at  her  inquiringly.    "Ah! 
I  see.    You  are  thinking  of  the  old  secretary 
in  the  Hanford  garret." 
"Yes;   and  the  French  for  it  is  — " 
"  Escritoir." 

"  There  you  have  it.  You  are  eyes  to  the 
blind  to-night,  Mr.  Hardy  —  and  you  shall 
have  your  reward.  This  is  the  way  I  fill 
out  the  gaps  in  the  broken  writing  now :  '  I 
give  and  bequeath  to  Jeremiah  Bardie  my 


NICK  ASSISTS  AT  A  KETTLE-DRUM.         179 

old  private  escritoir,  with  all  that  it  may 
contain.' '' 

"  Capital  I "  exclaimed  Hardy,  laughing  and 
clapping  his  hands. 

"None  the  less  so  from  the  fact  that  Jer- 
emiah Hardy  was  your  great-grandfather," 
said  Miss  Tafaitha. 

"  But,"  said  Nicholas,  half  puzzled,  "  a  law- 
yer of  Squire  Gammel's  acuteness  ought  to 
have  guessed  out  this.  There  was  the  old 
cabinet,  right  before  him,  as  you  may  say." 

"  O,  no,  Mr.  Hardy.  Don't  you  see  that, 
not  knowing  what  I  know,  he  had  no  clue  ? 
Wanting  my  clue,  the  finding  of  the  will  in  the 
cabinet  would  rather  be  the  very  reason  he 
would  not  think  of  finding  the  cabinet  in  the 
will.  And  now,"  continued  Miss  Tabitha  de- 
cidedly, "  I  shall  not  write  to  Squire  GammeL 
I  shall  go  to  see  him,  and  to  find  out,  if  I 
can,  what  became  of  that  old  secretary.  By 
the  way,  do  you  know  any  Hanfords  ?  " 


180  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

"  I  was  thinking,"  said  Nicholas.  "  I  am 
very  sure  that  my  old  teacher  —  my  first 
'  school-ma'am/  who  taught  me  my  letters  — 
married  a  Hanford." 

"Where  do  they' live ?" 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  Well,  probably  that  can  be  found  out," 
said  Miss  Tabitha.  "  And  now  for  my  sequel. 
You  have  heard  through  Dr.  Norcross  the 
tradition  o'f  the  ancestral  spoon,  —  the  dia- 
mond concealed  in  the  handle,  —  its  inherit- 
ance by  the  Magraws,  and  so  forth;  and 
you  have  doubtless  thought  it  all  very  ab- 
surd. Well,  the  ancestral  wooden  spoon  is 
a  fact,  as  my  grandfather  Magraw  could  tes- 
tify, for  his  father  owned  the  old  relic,  and 
kept  it  as  the  apple  of  his  eye.  Since  that 
date,  through  accident  (or  secret  mischief, 
as  I  think),  its  full  history  is  lost.  I  have 
little  doubt  that  it  was  originally  kept  in 
a  secret  slide  of  the  old  cabinet-escritoir. 


NICK   ASSISTS   AT   A   KETTLE-DRUM.         181 

The  diamond  story  has  always  seemed  to  me 
a  legend  of  family  vanity,  for  the  origin  of 
the  spoon  itself  is  told  in  various  ways.  One 
account  relates  how  Captain  Solomon  Hardee, 
during  his  wanderings  in  the  East,  after  es- 
caping from  captivity,  was  saved  from  star- 
vation by  a  Tartar  woman  who  fed  him  with 
milk  from  a  woo'den  spoon ;  and  that  in  grate- 
ful remembrance  he  afterwards  had  a  wooden 
spoon  made,  and  used  the  figure  of  it  as  a 
sort  of  family  crest.  But  it  is  certain  that 
some  strange  value  always  attached  to  this 
wonderful  heirloom.  That  it  once  had  a  great 
diamond  in  its  handle  is,  of  course,  possi- 
ble, and  the  mysterious  disappearance  of  the 
spoon  may  give  some  color  of  truth  to  the 
story.  My  grandfather  found  no  trace  of  it 
till  he  was  over  eighty  years  old.  Then 
he  discovered  the  bowl  —  only  the  broken 
lower  piece  —  and  in  a  very  unlikely  hiding- 
place  to  be  left  in  by  "  accident."  The  lost 


182  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

handle  was  never  heard  of  again.  He  gave 
the  fragment  to  my  father,  and  my  father 
gave  it  to  me.  /  have  the  bowl  of  the  old 
Solomon  Hardee  spoon  in  my  possession  now, 
and  I  am  going  to  give  it  to  you" 

Miss  Tabitha  rose  and  went  out  of  the 
room,  leaving  Nick  in  a  curious  maze.  She 
soon  returned,  bringing  with  her  the  won- 
derful relic.  The  piece  was  of  some  very 
dark  kind  of  wood,  a  marvel  of  quaint  and 
cunning  carving,  of  sharper  and  more  arrow- 
like  pattern  than  an  ordinary  spoon-bowl, 
very  large  and  smooth,  and  having  a  double- 
bevelled  rim,  and  the  figure  of  a  grape-leaf 
nicely  cut  at  the  base  of  the  handle-stump. 

"  There,  Mr.  Hardy,"  she  said  quite  seri- 
ously, putting  it  into  his  hand.  "  I  am  the 
last  of  my  line,  and  whether  we  have  read 
the  old  will  correctly  or  not,  I  am  convinced 
that  this  belongs  to  you.  Perhaps  you  wifl 
prize  it  for  its  ancestral  associations ;  and  I 


NICK  ASSISTS  AT   A  KETTLE-DRUM.        183 

advise  you  that  your  family  name  is  no  igno- 
ble one.  Your  great-grandfather,  Jeremiah 
Hardy,  became  a  colonel  in  the  Revolution. 
In  his  old  age  he  came  to  New  Harbor  (as 
a  venerable  neighbor  of  mine  has  recently 
told  me),  and  visited  a  cave  at  Seagate 
Cliff,  where  once,  when  chased  by  a  party 
of  British  soldiers,  he  took  refuge,  and  kept 
ten  red-coats  at  bay  for  two  hours,  till  he 
was  rescued.  His  name,  scratched  on  the 
rock  with  his  bayonet,  is  seen  there  yet. 
Anytime  you  care  to  go  there  —  the  place 
commands  a  lovely  view  of  the  bay  —  I  will 
give  you  directions  where  to  find  the  old 
soldier's  mark." 

"Well,  well,"  thought  Nick,  as  the  gate 
of  the  Magraw  house  finally  closed  behind 
him,  "  I  have  had  history  enough  given  out 
to  me  to-night  to  furnish  a  week's  lessons. 
Wonder  if  I  should  make  a  'rush'  if  I 
happened  to  be  called  up  on  it  to-morrow. 


184  THE  WOODPN   SPOON. 

Really  though,  I  must  entertain  a  greater 
respect  for  Old  Dr.  Pliny  Norcross,  and  his 
mouldy  stories,  after  this.  To  think  I  should 
come  so  near  being  made  an  antiquary  my- 
self! Hurrah  for  Aunt  Tabitha,  anyhow, — 
and  I'm  in  for  a  family  romance  —  (need 
enough  of  redeeming  my  family,  goodness 
hnows  I " ) 

But  a  brisk  two-mile  walk  in  the  bracing 
air  wore  off  the  new  fascination,  and  when 
he  overtook  Calvin  and  Whately  going  into 
old  North  Central,  Nick  was  quite  his  old 
self  again. 

"Hillo,  Hardy,  where  from?" 

"Been   out   playing  a  little — that's   all." 

"  Playing  on  what  ?  " 

"  Playing  on  a  kettle-drum  with  a  wooden 
spoon." 


PONYING  FOR   BIENNIAL.  185 


'      CHAPTER   IX. 

• 

PONYING   FOB    BIENNIAL. 

A  bad  horse's  rider  will  speed  as  he  feels; 

For  a  spur  in  the  head  is  worth  two  in  the  heels. 

ANON. 

TTAVE  you  seen  Proc?" 

It  did  not  happen  to  be  "Have  you 
seen  Sidney  ? "  that  evening  at  Mrs.  Hinni- 
pick's  table,  thsee  days  before  terrible  "  Bien- 
nial." But  the  parody  was  too  good  to  pass 
without  laughter  and  appreciative  remarks. 
The  fellows  were  all  really  anxious  to  know 
what  had  become  of  Proc.  So  was  Mrs.  Hin- 
nipick.  So  was  Sidney;  for  whoever  else  had 
made  him  a  martyr,  he  had  never  suffered 
from  Snickerby.  Snickerby  was  the  general 
favo-ite.  And  now  where  could  he  be  ?  He 


. 
186  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

had  never  failed  them  before;  for  he  was  a 
good  trencherman,  and  always  manfully  faced 
his  plate.  To  do  a  breakfast,  or  a  dinner,  or 
a  supper,  at  Mrs.  Hinnipick's  without  Proc, 
was  worse  than  Midsummer  Night's  Dream 
with  Puck  left  out.  Nobody  could  spare  him. 
His  absence  now  disturbed  the  harmonies 
fearfully.  The  hiatus  where  his  cackle  al- 
ways came  in,  when  anything  particularly 
relishing  was  said,  was  actually  painful. 

The  theories  to  account  for  him  were 
various  if  not  ingenious.  One  said  that 
probably  he  wasn't  hungry  —  an  absurdity 
which  was  unanimously  shouted  down.  One 
thought  he  had  gone  to  the  tailor's  to  have 
the  rip  in  his  coat  mended.  One  wagered 
that  he  was  down  at  the  printing-office,  hid 
in  a  swab,  to  gobble  an  examination  paper. 
One  suggested  that  he  had  eloped  with  the 
"Park  Avenue  Heron"  (a  girl  a  foot  and  a 
half  tallr.  iaan  himself,  for  whom  he  had 


PONYING   FOB  BIENNIAL.  187 

once  accidentally  expressed  admiration).  One 
concluded  that  he  had  been  to  the  Faculty 
and  got  leave  of  absence  till  Biennial  was 
over  —  a  supposition  which,  for  its  moun- 
tainous prodigiousness,  and  its  sarcastic  ap- 
plication to  Proc's  well-known  scholarship, 
was  of  course  voted  the  best  joke  of  all.  So 
the  ifs  and  perhapses  went  round  —  guesses 
wholly  futile  and  at  fault  every  one  —  most 
of  all  those  which  ascribed  the  disappear- 
ance of  Mr.  Honorius  Proctor  to  dishonorable 
causes.  He  was  no  such  man. 

Inquiry  languished  on  the  inconsolable 
boarders'  lips  as  they  dispatched  their  supper 
with  impaired  appetites,  pining  for  their  mer- 
riest mate. 

"And  scant  and  small  the  booty  proved, 
For  Gelert  was  not  there." 

The  truth  of 'the  matter  was  that  Proc,  in- 
stead of  not  being  "hungry,"  had  felt  an 


188  THE  WOODEN   SPOON. 

unusual  desire  to  replenish  his  inner  man, 
that  afternoon,  at  the  close  of  recitation, 
and  not  finding  any  one  else  sufficiently  so 
inclined  to  bear  him  company,  he  had  gone 
alone  to  a  restaurant  down  town,  and  ordered 
mutton-chops  and  cold  plum-pudding.  The 
restaurant  was  in  the  second  story,  and  see- 
ing unoccupied  the  table  that  stood  in  the 
oriel  window  at  the  end  of  the  saloon,  a  very 
inviting  position  for  a  warm  day,  Proc  estab- 
lished himself  there  to  enjoy  his  lunch,  glanc- 
ing now  and  then  through  the  open  window, 
and  now  and  then  down  the  columns  of  a 
newspaper  that  he  found  lying  handy.  The 
chops  and  plum-pudding  proved  most  tooth- 
some and  filling :  he  was  thirsty,  too,  and 
the  ice- water  tasted  delicious ;  and  naturally 
he  drank  a  good  deal.  He  lunched  luxuri- 
ously, stopping  at  intervals  to  take  up  and 
shake  a  palm-leaf  fan.  As  the  last  morsel 
disappeared  from  his  plate,  his  attention  wan- 


PONYING  FOB  BIENNIAL.  189 

dered  to  the  newspaper  again.  Taking  it 
in  his  hand,  he  lounged  comfortably  back, 
till  his  chair  touched  the  low  window-sill, 
and  so  sat  at  ease,  reading  and  fanning  off 
the  flies.  The  summer  air  floated  in,  soft 
and  balmy,  under  the  lifted  sash,  wafting 
the  soothing  rustle  of  leaves,  and  the  sounds 
of  the  city,  mingled  in  a  drowsy  hum.  Slow- 
ly the  fan  dropped  —  then  the  paper.  Proc 
fell  asleep,  and  rolled  out  of  the  window  1 

Now  it  so  happened  that  a  horse  stood 
tied  by  his  bridle  directly  under  the  win- 
dow, and  Proc,  waking  at  the  instant  he 
pitched  over  the  sill,  and  clawing  wildly  out 
to  save  himself,  lauded  plump  on  the  animal's 
back,  and  clung  there  like  a  circus  monkey. 
The  horse,  which  was  quite  a  spirited  one, 
frightened  nearly  to  death  at  being  pounced 
upon  so  suddenly  from  the  air,  leaped  and 
reared  with  a  great  snort,  and  tearing  off 
his  head- stall,  rushed  out  of  the  yard  and 


190  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

down  the  street  at  a  speed  that  threatened 
to  break  his  neck  and  run  everybody  down. 
He  tossed  his  head,  and  threw  his  heels,  and 
jumped  over  two  small  boys  and  an  old  wo- 
man's peanut-cart,  and  knocked  down  a  hand- 
organ  man,  and  flung,  and  flew,  and  cavorted, 
and  careered,  as  if  he  was  trying  to  dislo- 
cate himself.  To  dislodge  his  rider  was  out 
of  the  question,  for  he  had  more  than  his 
match  on  his  back.  Having  no  bridle,  Proc 
hung  to  his  mane  with  a  mortal  grip,  and 
was  whirled  along,  hatless,  tousled,  and  red, 
bounding  into  the  air  every  now  and  then 
so  high  that  he  almost  turned  a  summersault, 
but  always  coming  down  to  his  seat  again 
with  the  true  instinct  of  a  man  whom  noth- 
ing physical  could  beat.  A  madder  horse, 
or  more  madly  mounted,  never  ran,  —  as  any 
one  would  have  said  who  saw  the  sight. 
Truck  teams  reined  out,  carriage  teams 
backed  and  dodged,  small  Arabs  climbed  the 


PONYING  FOB  BIENNIAL.  191 

awning-posts  and  squealed  "  hi-yah ! "  dogs 
barked,  pedestrians  halloed  and  roared,  wo- 
men shrieked  and  laughed  in  the  same 
breath,  good  old  men  swung  their  arms  and 
shouted  "  whoa  I  "  and  all  the  windows  were 
stuffed  with  staring  heads,  till  the  four- 
legged  hurricane  and  its  ^two-legged  pas- 
senger swept  by  out  of  view.  The  Wild 
Huntsman  himself,  blown  through  the  city 
out  of  the  Black  Forest,  could  not  have  cre- 
ated a  greater  sensation.  Down  Meeting 
Street,  all  the  way  from  the  Common  to  the 
railway  station,  the  terrified  horse  rushed 
with  his  unknown  rider,  vaulted  the  bridge 
with  two  thumps  of  his  hoofs,  wheeled  the 
corner  at  the  post-office,  and  galloped  down 
Causeway  Street,  till  he  reached  the  stable 
where  he  belonged. 

One  can  better  fancy  than  describe  the 
amazement  of  the  hostlers  when  one  of  their 
favorite  horses  plunged  into  the  livery-yard, 


192  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

frantic  and  bridleless,  and  carrying  a  hatless 
Sophomore  on  his  back  !  It  was  easy  enough 
to  "  place  "  Proc,  by  the  society  pin  on  his 
scarf,  though  none  of  them  knew  his  name. 
\Vui-d  soon  went  to  the  proprietor.  "  'Ere's 
Black  Sam,  that  Holden  took  out  to  be  shod, 
come  'ome  wi'  one  o'  them  college  fellers 
ridin'  him."  And  a  few  minutes  later  the 
proprietor  was  on  hand  to  see  about  it. 
"  What  does  all  this  mean  ?  "  says  the  man. 
Proc,  who  had  dismounted  and  poked  his 
hair  out  of  his  eyes,  resumed  as  much  of 
his  diguity  as  he  could  without  a  hat,  and 
told  a  plain,  unvarnished  tale.  But  the  man 
laughed  him  to  scorn,  while  all  the  stable- 
boys  hooted  and  groaned. 

"  You  don't  make  such  a  story  as  iluzb 
go  down  with  me,"  said  he. 

Appearances  were  against  Proc,  certainly. 
He  was  obliged  to  confess  to  himself  that 
the  whole  thing  was  too  preposterous  to  be 


PONYING   FOR  BIENNIAL.  193 

believed.  It  was  in  vain  that  be  gave  his 
name,  and  references  for  his  good  character, 
and  protested  that  he  told  the  truth.  The 
stable-man  was  implacable,  and  the  hostlers 
treated  his  words  with  derision.  Proc  was 
not  the  fellow  to  ask  favors.  His  dander 
began  to  rise.  He  was  ill  an  awkward  fix, 
but  he  would  get  out  of  it  without  striking 
his  colors,  or  not  at  all. 

"  Where's  Holden  ?  "  inquired  the  stable- 
man. 

"  Dunno." 

Of  course  nobody  knew.  But  at  that  mo- 
ment Holden  was  making  long  strides  in  the 
direction  of  the  stable,  and  very  soon  he 
came  in.  He  had  seen  just  enough  of  the 
escapade  of  Proc  and  the  horse  to  know 
next  to  nothing  about  it,  and  to  be  very 
wrathy  and  unreasonable ;  and  starting  off  in 
that  frame  of  mind,  he  reached  headquarters 
with  anything  but  a  charitable  report  of 
13 


194  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

the  "  college  scamp  as  stole  his  horse,  an' 
run  away  with't." 

"Thought  'twas  fun,  didn't  ye?"  quoth 
the  stable-man,  looking  Proc's  stocky  little 
figure  grimly  over.  "  Tim,  go  call  a  police- 
man." 

Unluckily  for  our  bare-headed  adventurer, 
none  of  his  own  class  had  happened  to  be 
on  the  street  to  witness  his  crazy  ride.  Sev- 
eral members  of  the  other  classes  had  seen 
him,  and  a  few  recognized  him,  and  two  or 
three  had  run  after,  as  for  as  the  bridge, 
but  noticing  that  the  horse  turned  into  the 
livery-yard,  they  went  no  further ;  and  before 
Proc  could  arrange  matters  with  his  irate 
keepers,  chapel  prayers  were  over,  and  the 
students  had  all  gone  to  tea. 

When  the  "  peeler "  made  his  appearance, 
awful  in  all  the  glory  of  his  official  buttons, 
Proc  told  him  the  same  story  that  he  had 
told  the  proprietor.  Bat  that  dignitary  was 


PONYING  FOB  BIENNIAL.  195 

incredulous  too ;  and  the  disgusted  victim, 
breathing  execrations  on  the  "  wooden-headed 
crowd,"  who  couldn't  see  that  a  runaway 
adventure  of  a  bare-headed  man,  on  a  bare- 
backed, bridleless  horse  was  an  accident, 
finally  agreed  to  go  to  the  police-station 
without  a  fuss,  if  somebody  would  lend  him 
a  hat. 

He  knew  that  he  could  get  help  enough, 
as  soon  as  he  could  send  a  message  to  his 
friends;  but  the  whole  affair,  and  the  way 
it  came  about,  was  so  infinitely  paltry  and 
ridiculous,  and  such  a  bad  joke  on  himself, 
that  for  some  time  he  could  not  make  up 
his  mind  whom  to  apply  to,  or  how.  Finally, 
failing,  with  all  his  remonstrances  and  expla- 
nations, to  get  a  release  "  on  his  own  recog- 
nizance/' he  put  a  bold  face  on,  and  addressed 
an  appeal  to  Hardy  at  his  boarding-club.  It 
came  to  hand  just  as  the  club  wer»  leaving 
Mrs.  Hinnipick's  door,  and  the  whole  com- 


196  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

pany   were  convulsed  to  hear  Hardy  read 
out  aloud, — 

"  Help-meats  to  the  rescue !  I  am  arrested 
for  horse-stealing.  Come  down  with  creden- 
tials, and  save  me  from  the  'jug '  1 

"Police  Station  No.  10.  PBOC." 

The  next  instant  eight  hugely  tickled 
Sophomores  were  .rushing  off  in  the  direc- 
tion of  No.  10,  to  deliver  their  lost  hero  out 
of  the  grasp  of  the  "  peelers."  They  arrived 
on  the  scene  in  an  incredibly  short  time, 
and  the  presence  of  all  the  brass-buttoned 
authority  in  the  sergeant's  office  could  not 
check  their  loud  laughter  when  they  entered, 
to  see  Proc,  in  a  rakish  jockey  cap,  stand- 
ing before  the  desk,  red  and  excited,  hold- 
ing an  argument  with  old  Jones,  the  restau- 
rant-keeper! Old  Jones  had  been  puffing 
around  Jbr  more  than  an  hour,  hunting  for 
the  "  shtudent  that  ordered  a  supper,  an'  eat 


PONYING  FOB   BIENNIAL.  197 

it,  an'  jumped  out  o'  the  winder  without 
pay  in'  his  reckonin'." 

This  thirty-seven-cent  persecution  was  a 
trifle  too  much.  "Look  here,  sir!"  quoth 
Proc,  bristling  with  sublime  indignation,  "  I 
want  to  know  what  you've  done  with  my 
hat  I  It  was  last  seen  in  your  saloon  —  & 
new  Panama  worth  five  dollars,  sir ! " 

The  look  and  attitude  of  the  plucky  little 
fellow,  firing  off  this  speech,  upset  his  class- 
mates completely,  and  they  greeted  him  with 
staggering  rounds  of  merriment ;  and  it  was 
not  till  the  sergeant  threatened  to  have  them 
"  all  arrested,"  that  they  could  sober  down 
sufficiently  to  attend  to  business.  Laughter 
proved,  however,  the  best  thing  under  the 
circumstances,  for  it  operated  as  a  general 
eye-opener.  Old  Jones  sneaked  out  with 
his  thirty-seven  cents,  and  with  the  tables 
turned  on  him  by  one  customer  whose  pat- 
ronage he  would  never  have  again.  The 


198  THE   WOODEN  SPOON. 

"peelers"  were  now  quite  ready  to  lislen 
to  reason,  and  while  Durkee,  Sampson,  and 
McFarlane  hurried  away  to  recover  Proc's 
hat,  and  make  everything  right  with  the 
stable-men,  Hardy,  Calvin,  and  the  rest  staid 
by  to  answer  for  their  friend  and  hear  his 

droll  story  thoroughly  inquired  into  and  es- 

m 
tablished.     The  arrival  of  McFarlane  with  the 

hat,  and  of  Durkee  and  Sampson  with  Holden 
and  his  apologies,  settled  the  case,  and  the 
comedy  of  errors  being  all  untangled,  police- 
men, students,  and  hostler  separated  with  a 
mutual  haw,  haw !  Meantime  the  news  of 
Proc's  pony  adventure  had  reached  the  ears 
of  the  rest  of  the  class.  But  when  it  flashed 
ab,put  that  he  had  been  arrested,  and  all  the 
circumstances  of  the  affair  were  known,  the 
measure  of  fun  was  full,  and  Snickerby  was 
unanimously  voted  the  most  amusing  fellow 
in  college. 


PONYING  FOB  BIENNIAL.  199 

Biennial  Examination  (abolished  now),  the 
great  trial  af  scholarship  occurring  every 
other  year,  at  which  the  whole  course  of  two 
years'  studies  waa  reviewed,  and  written  an- 
swers were  required  to  lists  of  questions  on 
them  all,  was  the  dreaded  event  of  Sopho- 
more and  Senior  life — more  especially  of  the 
former ;  and,  as  with  all  things  dreaded,  the 
preparations  for  it  were  usually  put  off  till 
necessity  enforced  them.  It  was  a  habit 
of  the  students,  during  the  last  "  days  of 
grace "  to  assemble  in  squads  in  the  rooms 
of  some  of  the-  better  scholars  of  the  class, 
and  spend  the  night  in  cramming  for  the 
great  examination. 

The  more  unprincipled  of  the  poor  scholars 
of  the  class,  too  far  behind  to  gain  anything 
by  the  stuffing  process,  made  solitary  prep- 
aratio/is  to  steal  their  passage,  or  held  secret 
meetings  among  themselves  to  devise  suc- 
cessful ways  of  "  skinning  "  (smuggling  text- 


200  THE  WOODEN    SPOON. 

book  leaves  or  stolen  answers  into  the  exam- 
ination-room), and  to  invent  new  and  inge- 
nious tricks  by  which  to  "  pony  "  themselves 
through. 

One  of  the  cramming  assemblies  was  to 
meet  in  Hardy's  room  on  the  night  follow- 
ing Mr.  Honorius  Proctor's  bare-back  ride. 
Hardy's  interest  in  this  was  mainly  one  of 
hospitality  and  friendly  help,  as  his  thorough 
habits  of  study  had  left  him  in  no  special 
need  to  "  cram  "  on  his  own  account.  By 
the  hour  of  nine  P.  M.  the  company,  including 
all  the  "Help-meat  Club"  (except  Proc,  who 
had  locked  himself  up  to  escape  an  ovation) 
and  seven  others,  mostly  belonging  to  Nick's 
"  division,"  had  arrived  with  their  piles  of 
text-books,  and  settled  down  to  work.  By 
the  enterprise  of  one  of  their  number,  a 
swivel  urn  had  been  borrowed  for  the  occa- 
sion from  a  boarding-house  near  by,  and  this 
being  filled  with  strong  tea,  was  set  upon  a 


PONYING   FOR   BIENNIAL.  201 

table  over  a  spirit  lamp,  to  furnish  exhilarat- 
ing decoctions  when  needed,  and  fortify  the 
drowsy  againat  the  invasions  of  Morpheus. 
It  was  understood  that  no  "  liquor  "  should 
be  allowed. 

Enter  first  the  Mathematics,  —  the  rule  be- 
ing to  "  begin  with  the  hardest,"  —  and  with 
much  groaning  and  many  maledictions,  and 
free  and  frequent  drafts  upon  Hardy  and  Bart 
Whately,  the  crammers  wrestled  through  the 
manual  of  logarithms,  and  the  mysteries  of 
mantissas  and  "  corrections." 

"  I'm  an  ass ! "  burst  out  Bill  Dickinson, 
who  had  made  a  seven-headed  and  ten-horned 
blunder  that  vastly  entertained  the  whole 
squad,  (and  Bill  did  manage  before  midnight 
to  prove  himself  what  he  said  he  was.)  But 
in  the  next  breath  he  spoiled  it  all  by  adding, 
"  And  Tutor  Pondright  's  another  ;  "  which 
reflection  on  the  excellent  instructor  in  math- 
ematics wan  of  course  promptly  rebuked. 


202  THE  WOODEN   SPOON. 

Tea  was  handed  round;  and  then  came 
Conic  Sections,  next  Mensuration,  Trigonome- 
try, and  Geometry,  and  last  of  all  Algebra, 
the  shrewder  heads  of  the  company  indicat- 
ing (by  some  privileged  guess-work  of  their 
own)  the  portions  which  the  class  were  "  most 
likely  to  be  called  up  on." 

"  O,  Fve  rnn  my  young  head  in  a  noose ! " 

sung  Bill  Dickinson,  getting  tired  and  tune- 
fill  before  the  mathematics  were  half  done. 
He  had  been  growing  more  tuneful  than  in- 
tellectual ever  since  he  came  in. 

"A  Binomial  Boot  I  am  found, 

Unequal,  and  never  can  pass: 
Tutor  Pondrisrht  thinks  me,  111  be  bound, 
A  small  geometrical  ass, — 

And  he's  another." 

But  by  this  time  every  man  had  begun 
to  feel  that  cramming  was  work  that  required 
a  little  amusement  in  it  to  make  it  healthy. 


PONYING  FOB  BIENNIAL.  203 

So  when  Bill  struck  up  again,  Charley  Dur- 
kee  took  the  words  out  of  his  mouth,  and 
the  whole  crowd  launched  off  to  the  tune 
of  «  Selkirk's  Soliloquy,"  — 

"All  my  TRIANGLES  now  are  obtuse, 

And  quite  circumscribed  are  my  SPHERES, 
My  COSINES  are  found  of  no  use, 
And  my  POLYGONS  end  —  all  in  tears. 

"  My  TANGENTS  fly  off  into  space, 

On  my  SOLIDS  no  mortal  can  sup, 
My  ZONES  are  a  frigid  disgrace, 
And  my  CUBE  ROOTS  will  never  come  up. 

"  When  I  run  my  young  head  in  a  noose, 

Tis  a  HYPOTHENUSE,  I  declare, 
And  little  can  FRUSTUMS  produce 
In  brains  that  of  figures  are  bare."  * 

All   this  would    have    gone  off   smoothly 
enough,  if  noisy  Bill  had  not  run  away  with 


•  Mr.  J.  T.  Fields  will  pardon  the  author  the  free  and  some* 
what  anachronistic  use  of  his  lines. 


204  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

himself,  and  finished  up  the  song  with  a 
whoop.  There  was  no  need  to  smell  the 
fellow's  breath  to  perceive  that  his  mathe- 
matics for  that  night  had  stopped  at  the  table 
of  wine-measure.  A  mug  of  hot  tea  was 
poured  down  his  throat,  and  every  effort 
made  to  get  him  quiet.  But  he  would  not 
subside  long.  "  Le's  go  out  an'  have  another 
Burial  o'  Euclid  I "  he  shouted,  when  the  last 
problem  had  been  marked,  and  the  company 
were  ready  to  take  up  the  classics.  Hardy 
told  him  there'd  be  a  burial  of  Bill  Dickinson 
if  he  didn't  stop  his  noise.  Whereupon  Bill 
muttered  that  'twas  a  good  joke,  and  behaved 
himself  for  ten  minutes,  paying  attention  to 
Homer.  At  the  end  of  that  time  lie  was 
detected  paying  attention  to  a  pocket  bran- 
dy-flask. His  companions  began  to  think 
they  hafl  humored  him  about  long  enough, 
but  tli3y  went  on  translating  picked  passages 
from  Homer,  and  Xeuophon,  and  Thucydides, 


PONYING   FOR   BIENNIAL.  205 

from  Livy  and  Horace  and  Sallust,  Bill  only 
interrupting  with  a  grotesque  remark  now 
and  then,  and  making  frantic  attempts  to  con- 
strue the  words  of  his  "  pony"  into  the  Greek 
or  Latin  text.  There  were  several  "  ponies  " 
in  the  crowd,  for  these  English  translations 
could  be  lawfully  used  to  smooth  a  literal  ren- 
dering, provided  a  fellow  thoroughly  knew  his 
grammar  and  his  text  first.  Bill  knew  nei- 
ther text,  nor  grammar,  nor  history.  "Who's 
this  confounded  Otho?"  he  bawled  out  in 
the  middle  of  the  skirmish  with  Tacitus.  His 
stupidity  served  for  a  general  laugh  that 
drove  off  drowsiness  better  than  tea  could  do 
it.  If  Bill  had  been  reading  the  history  of 
the  last  French  empire  in  Latin,  he  would 
have  wanted  to  know  who  "this  confounded 
Napoleon  III."  was.  Presently  he  was  caught 
tipping  his  brandy-flask  again,  and  being 
peremptorily  ordered  to  put  it  up,  he  became 
more  obstreperous  and  showed  fight.  Pa- 


206  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

tience  had  ceased  to  be  a  virtue.  But  they 
bore  with  him,  and  made  an  attempt  to  cram 
"  Alcestis."  At  last,  when  Bill  broke  forth 
on  a  Greek  chorus,  and  persisted  in  singing 
it  to  "  Cocachelunk,"  the  fellows  resolved 
themselves  into  a  council  of  fourteen,  and 
sentenced  him  to  be  taken  out  and  pumped 
on.  They  seized  him,  and  "  blindfolding  " 
his  mouth  to  stop  his  profanity,  carried  him, 
despite  his  kicking,  down  stairs,  and  across 
the  yard,  to  the  college  pump.  Then  a  dozen 
stout  hands  held  him  fast  with  his  head  under 
the  spout,  while  others  equally  vigorous  plied 
the  handle. 

Of  course  matters  had  not  been  carried 
thus  far  without  considerable  racket,  which 
was  likely  to  be  the  more  noticeable  from 
the  fact  that  it  was  now  half  past  eleven 
o'clock  in  the  night.  Hardy  and  his  party 
had  been  expecting  the  hall  officer  to  make 
his  appearance  for  the  last  hour,  and  now 


PONYING  FOB  BIENNIAL.  207 

they  did  not  care  whether  he  came  or  not. 
But  Tutor  Wilkes,  wbo  was  the  regulator 
of  their  section,  was  either  too  wide  awake 
to  misunderstand  the  cause  of  the  noise,  or 
too  sound  asleep  to  hear  it.  The  fuss  around 
the  pump,  and  Bill  Dickinson  wiggling  and 
spluttering  under  his  douche  bath,  attracted 
some  heads  out  of  the  old  "  barracks  "  win- 
dows, but  nobody  interfered.  The  "  execu- 
tioners "  did  their  work  well ;  and  they  were 
about  to  trot  -Bill  off  to  his  room  and  put 
him  to  bed,  when  they  caught  sight  of  a 
figure  that  they  knew,  and  instantly  a  muf- 
fled explosion  shook  the  whole  squad.  Proc, 
who  never  could  keep  the  fence  between 
him  and  a  scuffle,  had  overheard  the  stir  in 
the  yard,  and  come  dawn  to  see.  Before 
he  fairly  knew  who  ihe  actors  in  the  per- 
formance were,  seven  or  eight  laughing  and 
excited  classmates  had  surrounded  him  and 
swept  him  off  with  them  into  North  Central 


208  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

south  hall.  They  had  got  him  at  last  —  the 
man  to  "  ride  the  pony/'  who  "  couldn't  be 
beat ;  "  and  if  time  and  place  had  been  safe 
they  would  have  raised  a  regular  war-whoop 
round  him.  So,  hurried  to  the  stairway,  and 
borne  upward  in  gusts  of  half-stifled  mirth, 
Proc  rode  (without  saddle  or  bridle)  to  Har- 
dy's room. 

The  rest  of  the  company,  having  disposed  of 
sobered  Bill,  Boon  returned,  and  it  is  easy  to 
say  there  was  more  fun  and  joking  crammed 
in  the  next  fifteen  minutes  than  Latin  and 
Greek.  Proc's  afternoon  experience  was  an 
inspiration  of  witticism  and  jest  that  left 
Horace  and  Aristophanes  nowhere ;  and  the 
fellows  actually  quaked  and  reeled  with  the 
laughter  they  dared  not  let  out. 

"  Aha,  Proc,"  quoth  Nick  at  last,  "  wel- 
come !  and  a  thousand  thanks  1  We  take  off 
our  hats  to  the  lesson  you  taught  us  to-day, 
bare-headed  and  alone,  — a  spur  in  the  head 


PONYING   FOR  BIENNIAL.  209 

is  worth  two  in  the  heels.     Now  mount  your 
pony,  and   let's   all   start   together." 

The  crammers  stuck  to  their  work  till  three 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  then  disbanded. 

"Now,  Proc,  honor  bright,"  said  Hardy 
aside  to  him,  as  he  was  going,  "  what  was 
there  in  that  ice- water  you  drank  at  old 
Jones'  ?  " 

"  Well,  Hardy,  to  be  honest  about  it,"  whis- 
pered Proc,  "  I  did  drink  a  glass  of  ale ;  and 
I'll  be  thrashed  if  I  ever  do  it  again ! n 

And  Proc  never  did 
14 


210  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 


«•  If  lineal  virtues  last,  and  if 
Death  hides  lost  greatness  but  in  trust, 
My  sires  who  looked  on  yonder  cliff 
Preserve  my  promise  in  their  dust." 

O  Nick  Hardy  wrote  under  one  of  the 
trees  of  beautiful  Collingwood,  a  large, 
almost  manorial,  estate  in  the  highlands  of 
New  Harbor,  through  whose  groves  and 
grounds  meditative  students  loved  to  stroll 
and  rest. 

It  was  a  rare  thing  to  find  Hardy  poet- 
izing ;  but  "  Biennial "  was  over,  and  having 
been  appointed  Junior  orator  for  "  Statement 
of  Facts"  next  fall,  he  had  wandered  out 
to  Collingwood  alone,  on  one  of  term-time's 
easy  remaining  days,  to  begin  the  plan  of  his 


•       NICK  HAS  LONGINGS.  211 

speech  for  that  occasion,  and  jot  down  some 
early  thoughts.  Pausing  on  a  shaded  knoll, 
from  which  a  sweep  of  prospect  opened  to 
the  west,  be  had  caught  a  distant  sight  of 
Sea-gate  Cliff,  and  before  he  was  aware  he 
fell  a-dreaming  over  what  the  old  "  countess  " 
had  told  him,  and  for  the  moment  lost  all 
recollection  of  the  errand  that  had  called 
him  abroad. 

The  form  of  his  Revolutionary  ancestor, 
Jeremiah  Hardy,  and  the  tattered  Gartney 
will,  with  the  new-discovered  name,  perhaps, 
of  the  stout  old  colonel  among  the  heirs  — 
the  old  Magraws,  his  grandmother's  race  and 
kin  —  the  heirloom  spoon  and  the  Solomon 
Hardee  diamond — he  saw  them  all  in  phan- 
tasm rise  and  pass  before  him,  and  seem  to 
beckon  him  out  toward  the  sea.  He  thought 
of  the  decline  of  his  family  name  since 
his  great-grandfather's  days,  and  the  boy- 
ambition  which  had  often  fired  him  to  re- 


212  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

deem  it  shaped  itself  into  romantic  but 
none  the  less  manly  purpose.  There  may 
be  point,  and  prophecy  even,  in  the  reveries 
of  a  young  fellow  of  downright,  determined 
nature — like  Nicholas  Hardy  —  and  character 
in  his  transient  egotism.  It  was  no  violence 
to  his  habit  of  solid  thought  that,  under  the 
heroic  stimulus  of  the  moment,  our  brevet 
Junior,  with  his  mind  just  trained  up  to  the 
more  philosophical  studies  of  his  college 
course,  fell  to  reflecting  poetically  on  his 
possible  destiny,  and  scribbled  the  lines  at 
the  head  of  the  chapter ;  nor  that  he  added 
immediately  after  — 

"I  dare  not  scorn  the  sign,  nor  slight 

The  hour  when  wakes  the  ancient  pride 
That  hints  to  me  my  star  may  light 
Our  darken'd  fortune's  turn  of  tide." 

How  long  his  dreamy  mood  would  have 
lasted  is  uncertain,  had  not  the  glimpse  of 
an  approaching  figure  diverted  him.  Quietly 


NICK   HAS  LONGINGS.  213 

pocketing  his  pencil  and  paper,  he  smiled  at 
himself  to  find  how  strongly  the  "  ancestral 
spell "  was  getting  hold  of  him,  and  was 
about  rising  to  his  feet  to  move  away.  He 
glanced  again  at  the  figure  coming  nearer; 
he  knew  it  well  enough,  for  it  was  the  figure 
of  a  classmate.  He  sat  still  and  watched  the 
young  man.  The  young  man  was  thinking 
too  —  perhaps  thinking  about  his  ancestors, 
though  in  a  different  way,  and  for  a  different 
reason.  It  was  Bill  Dickinson.  Biennial  had 
been  too  much  for  Bill,  and  he  was  looking 
terribly  gloomy.  It  was  known  now  that  he 
had  been  dropped,  and  there  were  some 
who  had  sympathy  for  him.  Poor  Bill  had 
never  in  all  his  life  needed  sympathy  so  much 
as  now.  He  felt  that  he  had  no  one  to  blame 
but  himself  for  his  failure  and  its  conse- 
quences :  and  to,  have  come  to  that  feeling 
was  a  great  deal  for  Bill  Dickinson.  He  had 
gone  "  down  hill "  with  fearful  rapidity  since 


214  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

he  came  to  college.  When  he  entered  h* 
was  a  correct  young  man,  conscientious  in 
study,  and  faithful  to  moral  and  even  re- 
ligious duty.  But  gradual  intimacy  with  a 
few  fellows  of  the  wilder  sort  corrupted  his 
innocence,  and  his  "  freshman "  proprieties 
were  all  laughed  out  of  him.  His  Sopho- 
more history  had  been  a  history  of  increasing 
neglect,  dissipation,  and  moral  decline,  with 
his  "  matriculation  "  in  hopeless  suspense, 
and  his  "marks"  always  hovering  among 
the  forties,  till  Biennial  finally  stranded  him. 
The  forlorn  agony  of  his  first  knowledge 
of  his  loss  had  made  him  thoroughly  sober. 
To  realize  that  he  was  actually  left  otti  of 
his  class,  with  no  more  right  to  call  himself 
a  member,  was  something  indescribably  ter- 
rible. Depressed  and  remorseful,  brooding 
over  the  disgrace  to  himself  and  his  friends 
at  home,  he  had  wandered  out  to  Collingwood 
Grove  alone. 


NICE  HAS  LONGINGS.  215 

«  Hillo,  Dick !  " 

"Hillo,  Nick!" 

The  response  was  merely  a  mechanical 
echo  on  Bill  Dickinson's  part,  for  he  was 
startled.  He  had  not  seen  Hardy  under  the 
tree.  There  was  no  swagger,  none  of  the 
old  rollicking  tone  in  his  voice  now ;  it 
sounded  faint,  far-off,  and  half  sullen.  Nick 
felt  heartily  sorry  for  him. 

"  Come  here  and  sit  down,  and  keep  a 
fellow  company." 

Bill  turned  and  looked  him  full  in  the  face. 

"Do  you  mean  it?" 

"  Certissime,  Dick ! " 

Bill  approached  the  tree,  and  silently 
stretched  himself  on  the  green  sward  under 
the  shade. 

"  There,  in  gramine  reges"  quoth  Hardy, 
"  there's  no  reason  why  it  shouldn't  do  us 
both  good  to  go  to  grass." 

Bill    glanced    at    him    sidelong.      Surely 


216  THE   WOODEN   SPOON. 

Hardy  was  the  last  man  to  be  sarcastic 
over  a  classmate's  misfortune.  They  lay  a 
few  minutes,  prattling  trifles  like  tired  boys. 
Nick  knew  that  Bill  Dickinson  was  not 
entirely  bad.  Wrong  associations,  repeated 
moral  surrenders,  and  all  his  later  weak 
excesses,  had  not  quite  annihilated  the 
nobleness  that  was  in  him.  There  was  a 
trace  of  manly  character  even  in  the  way 
he  had  faced  his  examination,  the  very 
ordeal  that  cost  him  his  college  stand- 
ing. Reckless  as  he  was,  he  took  no  in- 
terest in  cheating,  and  he  had  made  no 
attempt  to  "  skin  "  his  way  through  Biennial, 
as  some  luckier  but  meaner  men  had  done. 
He  had  met  his  fate  fairly  at  least,  and 
if  in  this  some  of  his  recklessness  played 
a  part,  it  did  not  prevent  him  from  suffer- 
ing keenly  now. 

"  Dick,  I  know  what  you  are  thinking  of," 
said  Hardy  at  length.     "  I  won't  ask  you  what 


NICK  HAS  LONGINGS.  217 

you  are  going  to  do,  but  I'll  tell  you  what 
you  can  do,  and  what  1  should  do  if  I 
were  in  your  place.  I'd  study  up  in  vaca- 
tion, enter  Junior  (fresh  Junior  if  you  like), 
and  graduate  with  an  oration ! " 

Dickinson  made  no  reply  for  a  minute. 
Then  he  spoke  with  bitter  emphasis,  rising 
on  his  elbow  and  looking  desperately  at  his 
classmate. 

"Nick  Hardy,  I've  made  an  ass  of  myself !" 

"  So  you've  said  before,"  answered  Hardy. 
"  Many  a  young  fellow  makes  an  ass  of 
himself;  that's  no  reason  he  should  stay 
one.  Even  Bottom  the  weaver  waked  up  all 
right.  You've  had  your  dream.  Now  it's 
'  Methought  I  was,  and  methought  I  had,' 
and  say  there's  an  end  of  it.  Here  are 
two  years  to  retrieve  two.  Tike  your 
square  chance,  and,  my  word  for  it,  you  can 
give  odds  to  Appointment-day." 

"  Impossible.  There's  four  years  instead 
of  two  —  all  gone  to  perdition." 


218  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

"  Granted,  if  you  stop  where  you  are,  and 
give  it  up.  What's-  your  idea  of  the  im- 
possible, Dick  ?  " 

"A  fool's  redemption." 

"  Honest  now,  Dick ;  honest  and  philo- 
sophical ;  doesn't  a  man  cease  to  be  a  fool 
when  he  owns  up  to  being  one?" 

Bill  said  nothing.  He  sat  nervously  biting 
a  twig,  and  spitting  out  the  bark. 

"  Silence  answers  yes,"  resumed  Hardy. 
"  Then  you  are  not  a  fool,  and  you  are  not 
past  redemption.  I  tell  you,  Dick,  I  begin 
to  think  this  redeeming  business  pays.  I 
mean  to  do  more  of  it  in  time  to  come. 
I  believe  it's  about  half  life's  work  with 
the  best  of  us." 

Hardy's  voice  softened  as  he  said  these 
words.  Bill  had  thrown  down  the  twig, 
and  pulled  out  his  pocket-handkerchief.  For 
some  time  neither  of  the  young  men 
spoke. 


NICE  HAS  LONGINGS.  219 

"  If  all  this,"  said  Dickinson,  breaking 
silence  first,  — "  if  all  this  could  be  kept 
from  my  mother,  I  believe  I  could  "  —  and 
there  his  words  stuck  in  his  throat. 

"  God  bless  you,  Dick  !  "  said  Hardy. 
"  Never  you  worry  for  that.  It  will  cost 
pain,  but  your  unwritten  history  is  safe  with 
your  mother ;  and  now  for  her  very  sake 
be  a  man,  and  live  down  the  old  days." 

Bill  sat  with  his  face  buried  in  his  hand- 
kerchief. 

"  Come  back  to  college,  Dick.  Come  back 
with  a  resolution  as  high  as  heaven.  Here 
is  the  best  place  to  straighten  out  these 
obliquities.  Begin  new,  and  this  time  go  in 
for  culture  on  the  uniform  plan,  intellectual, 
moral,  and  spiritual.  Don't  forget  old  Ionic 
Hall,  second-story  class-room,  Friday  night, 
Dick.  Plant  yourself  on  your  privileges ; 
fear  God  more  than  you  do  ridicule  ;  sign  the 
pledge ;  take  temptation  by  the  throat,  and 


220  THE   WOODEN    SPOON. 

beat  the  devil  on  his  own  ground.  There's 
a  lot  of  us  here  will  lend  you  a  hand,  and 
stand  by  you.  If  you  don't  come  out  master 
at  that,  then  truth  isn't  truth." 

Poor  Dickinson's  pride  had  been  reached 
before ;  his  conscience  was  touched  now. 
He  was  back  once  more  among  his  first 
Freshman  days,  and  his  tears  of  contrition 
ran  down  like  rain. 

"  Good-bye,  Hardy,"  he  said  after  a  pause, 
rising  to  go.  "  It  hasn't  done  me  any  hurt 
to  go  over  all  this  with  a  friend.  Good-bye, 
and  thank  you.  I  leave  for  home  to-night ; " 
and  he  gave  his  hand. 

"  Good-bye,  and  remember  !  "  said  Hardy 
warmly,  grasping  the  offered  hand  with  both 
his  own ;  "  come  back,  and  '  All's  well  that 
ends  well.' " 

And  as  the  two  went  their  different  ways, 
Hardy  thought  it  quite  possible  that  he  had 
seen  the  last  of  jovial,  bright,  weak,  unlucky 
Bill  Dickinson. 


NICK    HAS    LONGINGS.  221 

Hardy  did  not  write  any  more  poetry  that 
day.  But  he  "lay  off"  at  Collingwood,  con- 
ceiving the  framework  of  his  September 
oration,  until  it  was  time  to  go  to  dinner. 
On  his  way  back,  the  subject  that  had  in- 
terested him  so  unusually  in  the  morning 
returned  upon  his  mind,  and  though  it  did 
not  again  set  him  dreaming,  he  resolved 
that  "for  the  fun  of  the  thing"  he  would 
visit  Sea-gate  Cliff,  and  do  it  that  very 
afternoon.  His  first  idea  was  to  get  all  or 
several  of  his  boat-club  together,  and  organize 
an  excursion  thither  in  the  "  Thetis  "  across 
the  bay ;  but  he  recollected  that  his  navy 
shirt  was  undergoing  repair  at  the  tailor's, 
and  as  he  could  not  think  of  going  out  to 
row  without  his  uniform,  he  was  obliged  to 
decide  on  making  the  trip  by  land.  He  laid 
hie  plan  before  the  fellows  at  dinner,  and 
invited  the  whole  club  to  go  with  him.  Proc 
must  be  one  at  any  rate.  No ;  Proc  and  five 


222  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

others  had  agreed  to  go  up  Euclid  Lane  to 
Terryfield  to  play  base-ball.  Whately  and 
Fay  Lewis  had  no  engagement,  but  they 
were  suspected  of  nursing  an  ambition  for 
the  Brunei  Scholarship  (a  year  ahead),  and 
a  design  to  spend  the  afternoon  "  reading  up." 
Finally  Matt  Calvin,  whose  love  for  base-ball 
was  not  enthusiastic,  struck  a  bargain  with 
Lewis  to  report  in  Terryfield  as  his  sub- 
stitute, and  upon  that  Hobart  Whately  told 
Nick  to  count  him  in  too.  So  a  party  of 
three  from  the  "  Help-meats "  was  made  up 
for  the  tramp  to  the  cliff.  Hardy,  Whately,  • 
and  Calvin  were  usually  inseparable  in  their 
pedestrian  excursions  and  holiday  strolls. 
They  started  at  half-past  one,  setting  their 
faces  country- ward.  As  Savin  Street  lay  in 
their  route,  Nick,  remembering  Miss  Tabitha 
Magraw's  promise  to  give  him  certain  direc- 
tions, foresaw  a  possible  discovery  on  the 
part  of  his  friends,  and  laughed  inwardly 


NICE   HAS    LONGINGS.  223 

to  think  of  their  recognizing  "  the  countess  " 
at  No.  209,  and  renewing  their  pleasantries 
over  his  old  adventure.  If  they  should  see 
Miss  Margaret,  and  —  But  he  would  not* 
be  responsible  for  anything  else  they  might 
find  out.  He  should  call  for  Miss  Margaret's 
aunt  at  all  events,  at  the  door.  He  did  not 
intend  to  go  in.  Judge  of  his  amusement 
when,  on  coming  in  sight  of  the  Magraw 
house,  he  spied  the  fair  Margaret  herself 
seated  on  the  porch,  and,  lounging  roman- 
tically near  her,  the  inevitable  Sidney  1  Bart 
Whately  opened  his  eyes  wide,  and  his  mouth 
wider,  and  then  crammed  his  handkerchief 
into  it.  Calvin  anxiously  inquired  for  a 
"  tub  of  soap "  to  put  his  head  in.  There 
was  no  dodging  the  secret  now ;  it  had  been 
flung  directly  in  their  faces.  They  stopped 
under  the  trees  at  the  gate,  and  stood  in 
agonies  of  self-restraint  while  Hardy  marched 
into  the  yard.  Plainly,  a  general  introduction 


224  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

was  the  only  thing  that  would  make  matters 
easy,  and  Sidney  must  manage  it,  which  he 
did  with  a  great  deal  of  sprawling  politeness. 
Calvin  and  Bart  contrived  to  impose  proper 
sobriety  upon  themselves  by  becoming  vehe- 
mently interested  in  Miss  Margaret;  and 
Hardy  was  forced  to  take  his  errand  into 
the  parlor.  Miss  Tabitha  with  great  minute- 
ness and  painstaking  described  to  him  the 
cave  in  the  cliff,  and  informed  him  where 
and  how  he  could  find  his  ancestor's  name. 
She  evidently  had  much  more  to  say,  but 
saw  that  Hardy's  necessary  haste  gave  her 
no  opportunity,  and  begging  him  to  call  again 
soon,  she  followed  him  into  the  yard,  where, 
of  course,  he  was  obliged  to  present  her 
to  his  two  friends.  The  effect  was  precisely 
what  he  expected,  and  the  affair  on  Linden 
Street,  a  year  ago,  was  immediately  recalled 
with  mutual  laughter.  Miss  Tabitba  invited 
them  to  sing  "  Upidee  "  again,  and  promised 


NICK   HAS   LONGINGS.  225 

not  to  get  frightened  and  run  away ;  but 
the  three  young  men  excused  themselves 
on  the  plea  that  Charley  Durkee  was  not 
with  them,  and  took  their  leave  with  com- 
pliments. 

"  I  have  got  track  of  the  Hanfords,"  Misa 
Tabitha  said  in  a  low  tone  to  Hardy,  as  he 
passed  out  of  the  gate  behind  his  companions. 
"There  is  a  family  in  Colebridge.  I  shall 
write." 

Calvin  and  Whately  were  in  a  ferment 
of  fun  and  curiosity,  and  Nick  had  to  explain 
at  once,  "  on  pain  of  being  reported  to  the 
Faculty,"  all  the  complicities  of  the  No.  209 
riddle,  the  relationship  of  the  fair  Margaret 
at  the  Magraw  house,  and  the  coincidence 
involving  spoony  young  Hinnipick. 

He  sketched  off  the  history  of  the  situation 
in  high  colors,  his  friends  punctuating  his 
speech  with  interjections  and  explosive  re- 
marks. 

15 


226  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

"  Zounds,  Nick  1 "  quoth  Whately,  when  he 
paused  for  breath,  "  didn't  know  you  was 
taking  us  out  here  to  give  us  such  an 
apocalypse.  The  shock  almost  made  my 
teeth  loose." 

11  Look  here,  old  fellow,"  said  Calvin,  "  the 
worthy  countess  yonder  seems  to  regard  you 
with  a  certain  maternal  interest,  and  evi- 
dently you're  at  home  in  her  castle.  Satisfy 
us  whether  you're  an  earl  in  disguise,  and 
we'll  show  you  proper  respect." 

"  Yes,  sir ! "  said  Nick,  gravely,  "  Lady 
Magraw  is  my  fortieth  great-aunt,  cousin  to 
my  grandfather's  first  wife  on  his  mother's 
eido.  She  owns  six  millions  an^  a  sheep 
farm,  and  she's  going  to  leave  me  the  money 
and  Sid  the  land." 

"  Good  1 "  chuckled  Bart ;  "  then  Sid  will 
settle  down  where  his  mother  can  find 
him." 

"Ah,  Nick,   Nick!"  said  Calvin,  striking 


NICK  HAS  LONGINGS.  227 

an  attitude  as  he  walked,  "I  tremble  fpr 
you.  It's  not  every  day/'  he  continued,  with 
comic  dignity,  "  that  a  fellow  has  tremendous 
good  fortune  tumbled  upon  him  by  a  run- 
away horse. 

'  Small  are  the  seeds  fate  doth  unheeded  sow 
Of  slight  beginnings  to  important  ends.' 

Hold  on  to  yourself  with  your  great  expec- 
tations, and  go  slow. 

'This  cause  which  your  ambition  fills 
Is  one  in  which  your  strength  you  should  not  waste 
Like  the  vain  giants  who  did  heave  at  hills. 
Tis  too  unwieldy  for  the  force  of  haste.'" 

And  there  the  banter  had  an  end  (without 
Calvin's  half  knowing  how  apt  his  quotation 
was),  for  they  had  passed  out  to  Crampton 
Meadows,  and  caught  sight  of  Barkenhead 
and  Tolman  rambling  about,  and  amusing 
themselves  with  looking  through  a  field* 


228  THE   WOODEN    SPOON. 

"  Ho,  fellows  1     Going  to  the  cliff?  " 

"  Yes ;  come  on." 

Hardy  and  his  party  considered  them- 
selves in  luck  to  get  the  loan  of  a  telescope 
so  easily.  It  would  add  much  to  the  charm 
of  the  grand  out-look  from  the  top  of  Sea- 
gate Cliff. 

"There's  a  picnic  up  there,"  said  Tol- 
man. 

"Is  there?    Let's  seel" 

And  they  looked  one  by  one  through 
the  glass  at  the  beetling  rock,  now  only 
two  miles  away,  while  Tolman  directed  them 
where  to  point  the  tube. 

"  So  there  is,  sure  enough.  Well,  the  more 
the  merrier.'' 

And  the  five  classmates  walked  on.  Pass- 
ing  through  a  belt  of  greenwood,  Hardy 
picked  up  several  dry  pine  cones. 

"  Pining  already  !  "  rallied  Calvin.  "  If 
you've  come  to  that  '  pitch '  BO  soon,  those 


NICK   HAS  LONGINGS.  229 

picnic  girls  must  have  turpentwined  you 
at  long  range." 

"  No,"  said  Nick ;  "  I'm  going  to  burn 
i  conic  sections  '  for  your  benefit." 

And  Barkenhead,  who  had  hated  and 
flunked  conic  sections  faithfully  to  the  last, 
said  he  would  help  him. 

They  reached  the  cliff,  climbed  up  by  the 
north  pathway  through  shrubbery  and  trees, 
and  stood  on  the  wildest  part  of  its  summit. 
Looking  at  their  watches,  they  found  that 
they  had  a  good  two  hours  to  spare.  Half 
an  hour  of  that  time  they  spent  lying  on 
the  rocks  and  looking  off,  and  taking  turns 
with  the  telescope.  They  had  not  been  long 
enough  in  college  to  acquire  a  very  scholarly 
interest  in  geology,  or  paleology,  but  there 
was  not  one  of  them,  not  even  Matt  Calvin, 
who  could  not  lay  aside  his  joking  long 
enough  to  give  a  reverent  thought  to  the 
brown  old  Devonian  masonry  of  the  huge 


230  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

crags  around  them,  piled  there  undated  ages 
ago,  and  even  to  the  strange  marks  on  their 
stony  faces,  and  to  the  wonderful  pebbles 
wrought  and  polished  before  there  was  any 
reckoning  of  days  and  years. 

"  Antiquity  I  "  muttered  Hardy,  musing 
over  a  piece  of  stone  in  his  hand  with  a 
print  on  it  like  a  fish's  tail.  "  Talk  of  thai 
alongside  of  things  as  old  as  these ! 

'O  passing  Time!  O  timeless  Past  I 
As  dewdrop  to  the  ocean  vast, 
So  shrinks  on  Nature's  ancient  page 
The  story  of  man'*  puny  age.' " 

"  That's  so,"  echoed  all  the  rest ;  and  a  few 
minutes  afterwards  they  looked  round  for  him 
and  could  not  find  him. 

The  infinitely  old  rocks  of  Sea- gate  Cliff 
had  not  put  Hardy  so  entirely  out  of  conceit 
with  antiquity  that  he  could  forego  his 
visit  to  the  soldier's  cave.  Following  the 
landmarks  described  to  him,  he  made  his 


NICK  HAS  LONGINGS.  231 

way  to  the  place  and  crawled  inside.  Then 
striking  a  match,  he  lit  one  of  the  pine  cones 
and  explored  the  roof  at  the  part  where 
he  had  been  told  he  would  find  Jeremiah 
Hardy's  name.  The  search  tried  his  patience 
a  little,  for  the  smoke  of  his  torch  would  blur 
everything  if  held  too  near,  but  at  length 
his  eye  caught  a  tracing  on  the  stone  that 
nature  had  not  made.  Pursuing  this  with 
eager  care,  he  succeeded  in  spelling  out  the 
letters  "  J-e-r-e-m-i-a-h  H-a-r-d-i-e."  It  was 
a  rude  scrawl,  but  he  could  read  it,  and  the 
name  of  his  stanch  old  patriot  ancestor, 
scratched  there  with  his  bayonet  on  the 
rocky  ceiling,  for  the  moment  thrilled  him 
like  a  living  face,  and  put  him  en  rapport 
with  the  brave  spirit  so  long  passed  away. 
Holding  high  the  smoky  cone,  he  moved  it 
around  the  dim  autograph,  leaving  a  black 
line  to  mark  more  distinctly  where  it  was, 
and  hurried  out  of  the  cave  to  find  his 


232  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

friends.  On  his  way  he  spied  something 
white,  lying  partly  under  a  stone  as  if  the 
wind  had  blown  it  there.  He  picked  it  up. 
It  was  a  pretty,  lace-edged,  lady's  handker- 
chief. The  mark  on  it  was  "  E.  T.  Lincoln." 
Hastily  concluding  that  some  member  of  the 
picnic  party  had  dropped  it,  he  put  it  in  his 
pocket,  and  returned  to  the  spot  where  he 
had  left  his  classmates.  They  were  not 
there,  and  he  thought  if  he  went  at  once 
to  restore  the  handkerchief  he  might  over- 
take them  headed  in  the  same  direction. 
Presently  in  his  wanderings  he  stumbled 
upon  a  rustic  group,  a  detachment  from 
the  main  party,  under  an  old  oak-tree,  and 
saw  Tolman  talking  with  one  of  the  ladies. 
It  was  a  lady  with  whom  Tolman  happened 
to  be  acquainted,  and  she  had  introduced  him 
to  her  male  and  female  friends.  * 

"  I  thought  this  might  belong  to  some  one 
of  your  company,"  said-  Hardy,  bowing  and 


NICK   HAS    LONGINGS.  233 

handing   the   handkerchief  to  the  oldest  of 
the  gentlemen.     But  no  one  recognized  it. 

"  There  is  no  lady  in  our  company  named 
Lincoln,"  said  the  gentleman  ;  and  Hardy, 
returning  the  handkerchief  to  his  pocket, 
was  presented  by  Tolrnan  to  his  new  friends, 
chatted  a  few  minutes,  and  withdrew  to  join 
the  other  Sophomores  who  were  at  the 
bowling-alley  in  the  grove  farther  down  the 
hill.  He  remained  with  them  at  the  alley 
for  some  time  playing  at  ten-pins,  and  making 
several  new  acquaintances,  and  it  was  not 
till  all  had  gone  out  for  another  stroll  in 
the  grove  that  Tolman  came,  and  they 
discovered  that  they  had  overstayed  their 
time. 

"  How  many  can  afford  marks  to-night,  and 
stay  here  another  hour  ? "  asked  Nick. 

Nobody  could  unless  it  was  himself.     Their 
marks  were  too  numerous  already. 
. "  Twenty  minutes  and  a  half  between  us 


234  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

and  chapel  prayers  1  It's  oysters  for  the 
crowd  that  we  don't  get  there,"  said  Tol- 
man. 

"  Oysters  for  the  crowd  that  we  do  I " 
shouted  Barkenhead.  "  Now  start  your- 
selves ! " 

And  down  the  hill  at  a  tearing  pace  the  five 
fellows  went  to  the  main  road.  For  the  first 
mile  Barkenhead 's  legs  took  a  long  lead. 
It  was  astonishing  to  see  what  strides  he 
made.  Then  Hardy,  who  spared  his  breath 
while  the  rest  laughed,  began  to  close  up 
the  distance.  At  the  end  of  the  second  mile 
he  was  within  three  yards  of  the  leader. 
Half  a  mile  more  and  he  could  take  his 
tracks.  The  sound  of  the  chapel-bell  quick- 
ened the  hindmost  to  a  nervous  spurt. 
Barkenhead  began  to  run ;  and  all  the  rest 
were  running.  At  the  end  of  the  third  mile 
Hardy  was  with  him  neck  and  neck.  The 
bell  had  done  ringing  and  began  if)  toll 


NICK  HAS  LONGINGS.  235 

before  they  fairly  left  Crampton  Meadows. 
They  took  the  shortest  way  they  knew ;  up 
Vineyard  Street,  through  Cabbage  Alley  to 
St.  John,  down  St.  John  to  Walnut,  pelting 
the  road  like  quarter-horses.  Barkenhead 
pulled  off  his  coat.  Tolman  had  caught  up 
with  him,  and  Hardy  was  leading.  They  did 
the  fourth  mile  in  incredible  time.  Across 
Bower  Street,  across  Train,  into  Silloway, 
and  straight  for  the  colleges.  Ding-dong, 
tolled  the  bell.  Only  three  were  running 
now.  Calvin  and  Bart  Whately  had  given 
it  up.  Past  the  corner  of  Oak  and  Wil- 
low with  a  rush ;  past  Cherry  corner  panting 
and  smoking.  Ding-dong,  tolled  the  bell. 
Traverse  Street  was  just  ahead.  Poor  Bark- 
enhead flagged,  entirely  wind-broken,  his  as- 
tonishing legs  going  alone.  The  bell  stopped, 
with  Hardy  and  Tolman  racing  through  the 
coal-yard,  and  Barkenhead  in  the  rear  sitting 
on  a  curb-stone.  His  narrow  chest  had  col- 


236  THE    WOODEN    SPOON. 

lapsed  him.  And  not  even  Tolman's  treat  to 
"  the  crowd  "  the  next  day  (he  and  Hard j 
were  the  only  ones  who  saved  their  marks) 
s  conld  console  the  mortified  fellow  for  the 
defeat  his  legs -had  suffered. 

That  evening  at  Mrs.  Hinnipick's  there 
were  at  least  three  boarders  who  ached  to 
hear  her  ask,  "  Have  you  seen  Sidney  ? " 
The  interesting  youngster  was  missing  at 
tea,  as  he  had  been  at  dinner.  But  the 
good  lady  made  no  inquiries.  She  probably 
knew  where  he  was  as  well  as  they  did. 
Calvin  and  Whately  requited  themselves, 
however,  for  their  loss  of  that  evening's  fun 
by  setting  the  rest  of  the  club  raving  about 
the  Savin  Street  charmer ;  and  when,  finally, 
they  all  came  to  eat  their  last  Sophomore 
dinner  and  settle  their  bills,  and  found  Sidney 
just  being  welcomed  home  with  open  arms 
after  a  two  days'  absence,  there  was  an 


NICK  HAS  LONGINGS.  237 

outburst  of  choral  comedy  and  sentimental 
squibs  that  must  have  made  fair  Margaret 
Granger's  ears  tingle  two  miles  off.  Poor 
Sidney  got  more  jokes  at  his  head  than  there 
were  plums  in  his  pudding,  and  his  happy 
and  congratulating  friends  at  that  dinner 
came  much  nearer  splitting  their  sides  with 
laughter  than  with  roast-beef.  Nor  could  he 
forgive  himself  for  getting  back  just  in  time 
to  be  treacled  and  gushed  over  with,  "  Adieu, 
my  loving  Sidney  1 "  "  Fare  thee  well,  and 
if  forever."  "  0  the  agony  of  it  I  It  wrings 
my  heart  out  to  leave  thee  ! "  "  You  know 
how  it  is  yourself —  parting  is  such  sweet 
sorrow  ! "  and  to  be  fusiladed  with  rhymes 
to  a  musical  pot-pourri  of  "Excelsior/  and 
'*  Pop  goes  the  weasel." 

"Now,  Peggy  dear,  be  kinder  kind! 
If  you  can't  say  you'll  marry,  find 
A  pen  and  ink,  and  write  your  mind 
To  your  poor  Hinnipiga. 


238  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

I  must  be  spliced  this  very  year, 
And  if  I  can't  have  you  —  O  dew, 
111  have  an  icehouse  buildcd  here, 

Cold  aa  the  Golf  of  Riga, 
And  weep  icicles  all  the  year, 
And  write  on  every  frozen  tear, 

P-e-g— Peg,  g-y— gy." 

Hardy  called  on  Miss  Tabitba  Magraw 
again,  according  to  her  request,  before  he 
left  New  Harbor  for  his  vacation.  She  had 
found  the  broken  old  escritoir,  and  brought 
it  home.  She  showed  it  to  him,  and  the  relic 
interested  him  greatly.  But  when  she  told 
him  that  an  inner  panel  (which  she  desig- 
nated with  her  finger)  had  been  discovered 
by  herself,  concealing  older  papers  than  any 
yet  found,  and  said  that  she  would  not  show 
these  papers  to  any  one,  not  even  to  him,  he 
could  not  help  wishing  that  she  had  kept  the 
whole  secret. 

While  on  his  way  home  in  the  cars  Nick's 
hand  came  in  contact  with  the  pretty  lace 


NICK  HAS  LONGINGS.  239 

handkerchief  marked  "  E.  T.  Lincoln  "  in  the 
pocket  of  his  duster,  where  it  had  lain  since 
his  tramp  to  Sea-gate  Cliff.  He  drew  it  out, 
and  this  time  the  sight  of  the  name  stirred 
a  little  throb  of  memory.  He  tried  to  think 
if  the  initials  of  a  certain  saucy  schoolmate 
of  Fenwick-days  were  not  "E.  T.*' 


240  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

IN  WHICH  NICE  INVESTIGATES. 

There  is  a  proud  modesty  in  merit; 
Averse  from  asking,  and  resolved  to  p*y 
Ten  times  the  gifts  it  asks.  —  DBTDEN. 

TT  was  somewhat  to  his  surprise,  and  just 
a  trifle  to  his  vexation,  that  our  young 
student  heard  himself  congratulated  by  his 
old  friends  in  Stouefield  and  at  the  "  Falls  " 
as  an  "  heir  to  a  great  estate."  He  certainly 
had  counted  on  no  such  inheritance  —  not 
yet.  The  piecing  of  a  marred  sentence  in 
the  old  patched  will,  so  as  to  make  one 
"  Jeremiah  Hardie "  the  devisee  of  certain 
property,  had  seemed  to  him  rather  an  inge- 
nious and  shadowy  suggestion  than  a  genu- 
ine discQvery,  and  he  was  unable  to  see  how 


NICK  INVESTIGATES.  241 

a  bequest  of  a  few  thousand  dollars  to 
"Nancy  Lyman,"  bis  grandmother's  mother, 
could,  under  the  circumstances,  ever  make 
him  very  rich.  But  it  was  vain  for  him  to 
protest  or  try  to  explain.  The  rumor  had 
got  about,  and  his  supposed  good  fortune  was 
the  gossip  of  the  day  with  the  simple  farm- 
ing folk  who  had  little  else  to  talk  or  think 
of.  Uncle  Ben  James  and  Aunt  Hepsy, 
who  could  estimate  greatness  by  dollars  and 
cents  better  than  by  scholarship,  had  a  sud- 
den access  of  vanity  over  their  boy  Nick  that 
was  quite  as  amusing  as  amazing;  and  all 
Stonefield,  from  Mr.  Sunderland  the  minister, 
and  his  family,  to  poor  Comfort  Grant  the 
black  shoemaker,  greeted  him  with  an  extra 
smile  and  a  redoubled  shake  of  hands.  At 
the  Falls  he  was  noticed  with  even  greater 
effusion.  His  poor,  ignorant  parents  and  rel- 
atives were  ridiculously  excited  over  the 
story  of  the  "  great  inheritance."  They  had 
16 


242  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

even  figured  out  (of  their  imagination)  to  a 
cent  the  amount  of  money  that  was  to  fall  to 
them,  all  and  several,  and  they  informed 
Nick  (a  piece  of  news  worth  coming  home 
for  certainly)  that  "  there  was  a  hundred  and 
Jifty  tlumsand  dollars  comin*  to  the  Hardys, 
honest  and  sure,  and  your  father  'n  mother  '11 
have  forty  thousand,  and  the  children  ten 
thousand  apiece  1 " 

Nick  shook  himself  with  merriment  when 
he  heard  this,  and  told  them  that  their  cal- 
culations did  as  much  credit  to  their  sense 
as  to  their  arithmetic.  But  they  could  not 
understand  his  sarcasm  any  more  than  they 
could  share  his  incredulity.  His  brother 
Jerry  expected  to  be  a  dashing  New  York 
buck,  and  drive  a  fast  horse  in  Jerome  Park ; 
and  Abe,  who  was  less  ambitious,  proposed 
to  buy  a  share  in  the  big  Tinsley  MilL  The 
sisters  (married  and  unmarried),  Sue,  Phoebe, 
Annette,  and  Sally,  —  all  but  Jane,  —  had 


NICK  INVESTIGATES.  243 

been  put  in  such  a  flutter  by  their  brilliant 
hopes  that  they  were  making  downright  fools 
of  themselves,  and  were  in  danger  of  run- 
ning head  and  ears  over  in  debt  for  rib- 
bons and  plated  jewelry.  The  parents,  poor. 
Saul  Hardy  and  his  wife,  had  no  more  idea 
what  they  should  do  with  their  money  than 
babes  unborn,  but  they  were  as  much  elated 
as  the  rest  with  the  prospect  of  their  for- 
tune. As  for  Silas,  he  was  not  there  to  share 
in  the  grand  expectations,  and  nobody  knew 
where  he  was.  Nick  laughed,  and  scolded, 
and  argued,  and  deprecated.  To  think  that 
the  pulling  down  of  the  old  Hanford  house 
in  North  Timlow  should  have  raised  such 
a  dust !  But  it  was  not  till  he  had  traced 
the  golden  rumor,  and  showed  how  pitifully 
slender  a  foundation  there  was  for  the  story 
of  the  Hardys'  inheritance,  that  he  could 
induce  them  to  abate  a  little  their  wild  hopes 
of  wealth.  With  Jane  he  had  an  easier 


244  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

tauk,  for  culture  had  made  her  reasonable 
and  intelligent.  He  would  not  positively  tell 
them  that  there  was  nothing,  but  taking  his 
cue  from  Squire  Gammel,  whom  he  visited 
and  consulted,  he  proved  that,  however  much 
money  might  be  involved  in  the  Hardy  claim 
in  the  Gartney  will  suit,  it  was  all  in  the 
wind  as  yet,  and  when  the  grand  "  windfall " 
would  happen  (if  it  ever  did)  no  living  man 
could  possibly  foretell.  They  did  not  thank 
him  much  for  dampening  their  ardent  aspi- 
rations, but  at  least  his  words  had  the  effect 
to  make  them  stop  talking  about  them. 

During  most  of  the  summer,  any  one  look- 
ing for  our  friend  Nicholas  might  have  found 
him  in  Fenwick,  at  Squire  Gammel's  office. 
A  few  days  he  spent  on  the  farm,  helping 
Uncle  Ben;  but  he  needed  money,  and  as 
the  squire  was  ready  and  anxious  to  employ 
him  at  office  work,  on  excellent  wages,  he 
made  hia  headquarters  with  him.  No  better 


NICK  INVESTIGATES.  245 

opportunity  could  have  been  offered  the  young 
student  to  familiarize  himself  with  the  terms 
and  the  actual  routine  of  the  business  which 
he  expected  one  day  to  engage  in  himself, 
or,  what  was  perhaps  of  less  importance,  to 
learn  just  how  far,  if  at  all,  he  and  his  rela- 
tions were  concerned  in  the  bequests  of  the 
old  Gartney  parchment,  whose  interpretation 
had  now  come  to  be  the  most  exacting  work 
in  the  busy  squire's  hands.  Personal  inspec 
tion  of  the  replaced  fragments  on  that  puz- 
zling document  did  not  perfectly  assure  Nich 
olas  that  Miss  Tabitha  Magraw's  reading  was 
right,  and  that  Jeremiah  Hardy's  name  really 
belonged  there ;  but  the  squire,  who  had 
been  impressed  with  the  ingenuity  of  hei 
theory,  said  that  the  result  of  all  researches 
thus  far  tended  to  make  it  probable.  The 
explanation  was  apt  and  striking ;  but  whe- 
ther sufficiently  so  to  carry  the  force  of  proof 
remained  to  be  seen.  When  Nicholas  told 


246  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

him  that  the  name  written  in  the  Cliff  Cave 
at  New  Harbor  had  the  same  termination 
as  the  supposed  name  in  the  will,  he  replied 
that  this  fact  might  .prove  to  be  a  "  lucky 
straw  in  the  scale."  When,  at  another  time, 
Nicholas  produced  the  bowl  of  the  so-called 
Solomon  Hardee  spoon  (which  he  had  brought 
with  him  but  shown  to  no  one  else),  and  re- 
lated how  he  came  by  it,  the  squire  laughed, 
and  said  that  was  certainly  something  tan- 
gible ;  but  he  added  more  seriously  that  from 
the  appearance  of  Miss  Tabitha  Magraw,  who 
had  visited  him  when  on  her  quest  after  the 
old  cabinet,  he  believed  her  to  be  a  woman 
whose  opinion  was  entitled  to  respect.  Her 
singularly  strong  conviction  as  to  the  right- 
ful ownership  of  the  old  escritoir  was  based 
on  family  tradition,  and  would  be*  testimony, 
at  least  where  there  was  no  direct  record 
to  rebut  it.  The  old  cabinet  and  the  old 
spoon-bowl  were  palpable  things,  and  had  a 


NICK  INVESTIGATES.  247 

history.  He  must  see  if  these  "  wooden 
facts  "  could  not  be  made  links  in  evidence. 
The  task  would  be  to  fit  them  in  the  chain 
in  their  right  places. 

"And  I  beg  you  to  take  notice,"  added 
the  squire  again,  smiling,  "  as  I  warned  Miss 
Magraw  when  she  got  possession  of  the 
cabinet,  —  I  lay  this  ancient  spoon-bowl 
under  bonds  to  appear  in  court  when  called 
for." 

Naturally,  the  name  of  old  Dr.  Norcross 
was  often  mentioned,  and  always  with  re- 
spect. His  assistance  in  the  will  case  had 
well  earned  the  squire's  gratitude,  and  the 
more  so  since  he  did  the  work  for  the  love 
of  it,  and  would  take  no  pay. 

"  If  he  were  not  a  rich  man,  as  I  under- 
stand he  is,"  said  the  squire,  "  I  could  never 
feel  free  to  apply  to  him  again.  But  his 
life  is  among  old  records  and  mysteries  of 
traditional  lore,  and  when  any  one  call?  on 


248  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

him  for  a  curious  fact,  or  a  forgotten  name 
he  hunts  it  up  with  as  much  pleasure  as  if 
he  were  receiving  a  favor  instead  of  giving 
one.  You  did  me  a  real  service  in  this  busi- 
ness, Hardy,  when  you  put  me  in  communi- 
cation with  Dr.  Norcross." 

Some  question  had  arisen  as  to  the  authen- 
ticity of  the  witnesses  to  the  old  will,  and 
to  trace  and  identify  these,  the  help  of  a 
practised  antiquary  would  save  the  lawyer 
much  time  and  trouble.  Squire  Gammel 
determined  to  send  Nicholas  to  Hightown 
to  talk  with  the  old  doctor,  and  see  if  he 
could  tell  who  "  Isaiah  Marley "  and  "  John 
Burdett "  were.  By  this  time  the  inquiring 
spirit  of  our  hero  had  become  so  far  engaged 
in  these  ancient  matters  that  he  was  pre- 
pared to  undertake  the  journey  with  pleas- 
ure, and  to  listen  with  patience  to  any  amount 
of  family  history  or  grandasval  learning  that 
his  old  friend  the  doctor  might  choose  to 


NICK  INVESTIGATES.  249 

inflict  upon  him.  In  fact,  the  nature  of  his 
errand  made  it  quite  in  the  way  of  business 
to  do  so;  and  he  now  actually  had  a  piece 
of  the  "  wooden  spoon "  to  show.  He  rode 
to  Hightown,  and  was  received  by  the  doctor 
with  an  eager  welcome,  and  a  free  tender 
of  all  the  information  he  possessed  touching 
the  matter  in  hand.  But  when  Nicholas  took 
out  the  old  spoon-bowl,  and  mentioned  Miss 
Tabitha  Magraw,  and  her  account  of  it,  the 
old  man's  enthusiasm  was  overwhelming.  He 
handled  and  inspected  the  relic  with  loving 
fingers  and  glowing  eyes,  and  for  a  long  time 
could  talk  of  nothing  else. 

"Ah!  didn't  I  tell  you  so,  Hardy?"  he 
exclaimed  exultingly.  "  And  I'll  tell  you 
more,  and  don't  you  forget  it,"  he  went  on ; 
"the  other  half  of  this  sacred  keepsake  — 
the  part  with  a  fortune  in  it  —  is  somewher* 
in  existence  yet.  Hold  on  to  this,  my  favored 
friend,  as  a  talisman.  It  will  bring  you  luck. 


250  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

It  is  your  iDdenture  bond  to  the  service  of 
your  race." 

Returning  to  Fenwick  from  his  conference 
with  the  imaginative  but  shrewd  old  doctor, 
Nicholas  was  able  to  report  to  Squire  Gam- 
mel  that  a  descendant  of  "  Isaiah  Marley  " 
lived  in  Colebridge  City,  and  the  squire 
immediately  proposed  that  his  young  friend 
should  go  there  and  "  interview  "  the  person. 
This  suited  Nicholas  exactly,  for  travelling 
was  a  luxury  which  his  means  would  not 
let  him  indulge  in  very  often,  and  to  be  able 
thus  to  take  his  work  and  his  needed  recre- 
ation together  was  clear  gain.  Vacation  was 
drawing  near  its  close  when  he  was  ready 
to  go,  and  it  was  arranged  that  he  should 
return  to  college  directly  from  Colebridge, 
and  send  the  result  of  his  inquiries  to  the 
squire  in  writing.  Preferring  the  water  route 
to  the  shorter  but  dusty  railway,  he  took 
passage  at  Fenmouth  in  one  of  the  small 


NICK  INVESTIGATES.  251 

coast- steamers  that  ran  up  the  river  from 
Fairport,  and  embarked  on  a  golden  morn- 
ing late  in  August,  prepared  for  six  hours 
of  leisure  and  cool  enjoyment.  He  saw  none 
among  his  fellow-passengers  whom  he  knew, 
or  who  he  had  any  reason  to  suppose  knew 
.him,  but  presently,  while  he  sat  aft  in  a 
camp-chair  on  the  saloon-deck,  gazing  out 
over  the  sea,  a  well-dressed,  sharp-eyed  man 
began  to  watch  him,  as  if  he  had  either 
seen  him  somewhere,  or  meant  to  mark  him 
for  future  reference.  It  was  a  long  time 
before  Nick  noticed  him  walking  to  and  fro, 
or  standing  with  others  at  the  taffrail ;  but 
when  he  discovered  that  he  was  looking  at 
himself  rather  attentively  and  frequently,  he 
of  course  wondered  what  he  wanted.  His 
momentary  suspicions  of  ill  design  vanished, 
however,  on  observing  that  he  appeared  to 
be  a  friend  of  the  captain  of  the  boat,  and 
being  accosted  shortly  after  by  the  stranger 


252  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

in  a  manner  very  different  from  the  style  of 
"  confidence  operators,"  and  genteel  black- 
legs. 

"  I  see  by  the  ticket  in  your  hat,  sir,  that 
you  are  goitfg  to  Colebridge,"  said  he.  Nich- 
olas replied  that  such  was  his  intention.  "  I 
live  in  Colebridge,"  continued  the  stranger, 
"  but  unexpectedly  I  am  obliged  to  delay  my 
return  home  for  several  days,  and  shall  leave 
the  boat  at  Nohannic.  Will  you  do  me  the 
favor  to  carry  a  letter  to  my  wife?" 

Nick  could  do  no  less  than  signify  his 
willingness  to  oblige  him,  if  he  would  tell 
him  where  to  find  his  residence ;  and  the 
man  thanked  him,  and  went  down  into  the 
cabin  to  write  his  letter.  He  soon  returned 
with  it  sealed  and  directed,  and  handing  it 
to  Nick,  said, — 

"  There  are  fifty  dollars  in  this  letter,  and 
I  am  anxious  that  my  wife  should  get  it  to- 
day. My  name  is  Mulford,  as  you  will  infer 


NICK  INVESTIGATES.  253 

from  the  address.  I  hope  No.  14  Henry 
Street  will  not  take  you  too  far  out  of  your 
way." 

"But,"  said  Nicholas,  "you  do  not  know 
who  I  am.  How  can  you  trust  me  with 
money  ?  I  promise  to  do  your  errand, 
but  —  " 

"  It  is  immaterial  to  me  who  you  are,"  in- 
terrupted the  stranger,  smiling.  "I  think  I 
know  what  you  are.  I  am  older  than  you, 
and  have  learned  how  to  read  men."  And 
bidding  him  a  pleasant  "  good-day,"  he  im- 
mediately went  below,  for  the  boat  was  now 
very  near  Nohannic  landing. 

Nick  had  intended  to  ask  the  stranger 
from  Colebridge  some  questions  about  the 
descendant  of  "  Isaiah  Marley,"  for  though 
he  had  the  name,  he  did  not  yet  know  the 
street  and  number  where  the  person  lived 
whom  he  was  expected  to  find.  He  was 
obliged  to  wait,  however ;  and  waiting  was 


254  "THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

easy  (after  passing  Fairport),  in  sight  of  the 
shore  scenery  of  the  beautiful  river  on  whose 
bosom  he  was  borne  along  -to  his  journey's 
end. 

He  arrived  in  Colebridge  at  two  o'clock, 
and  at  once  inquired  his  way  to  Henry 
Street.  Before  going  there  it  occurred  to 
him  to  consult  a  directory.  If  he  should  find 
that  he  could  locate  all  his  errands  on  one 
route,  he  would  avoid  going  over  unneces- 
sary ground.  Having  copied  the-  name  and 
number  of  Simon  Gaines,  he  looked  for 
"  Hanford ; "  for  Miss  Tabitha  Magraw,  who 
had  promised  to  trace  this  family,  had  made 
no  satisfactory  report  as  yet,  and  Squire 
Gammel,  feeling  impatient,  had  requested 
Nicholas  to  see  to  it.  He  was  astonished 
to  discover  that  the  only  "  Hanford  "  in  the 
city  lived  at  No.  14  Henry  Street !  Re- 
solving to  make  his  first  call  at  the  Gaines 
residence  in  his  way,  if  possible,  he  started 


NICK  INVESTIGATES.  255 

on  his  walk.  He  learned,  on  inquiry,  that 
Simon  Gaines  was  dead,  and  that  his  aged 
widow,  the  person  of  whom  he  was  in  search, 
had  moved  from  her  old  home  to  a  distant 
part  of  the  city.  He  then  went  on  to  Henry 
Street,  but  was  disappointed  again  in  finding 
no  one  at  home  at  No.  14  but  an  old,  half- 
deaf  man,  who  came  forward,  with  a  trum- 
pet to  his  ear,  and  wanted  to  know  who  he 
was,  and  where  he  came  from,  and  what  he 
was  after.  Nick  screamed  the  information 
into  his  trumpet;  and  then  he  insisted  on 
knowing  whose  eon  he  was,  and  whose  grand- 
son, and  whose  great-grandson,  and  "  what 
Gammel "  it  was  that  sent  him  there,  and 
how  Mulford  happened  to  give  him  money  to 
bring  home.  The  visitor  saw  that  he  had 
a  herculean  job  on  his  hands,  but  still  he 
staid-,  hoping  that  the  old  gentleman  would 
stop  asking  questions  after  a  while,  and  con- 
sent to  talk.  Of  course  the  thing  he  felt 


266  THE  WOODEN    SPOON. 

most  anxious  to  find  out  was  when  he  could 
see  Mrs.  Mulford,  and  deliver  the  money. 

"  When  do  you  expect  the  family  home, 
sir?" 

"  Hey  ? "  (poking  the  trumpet  into  his 
face.) 

*'  When  will  your  folks  come  home  ? " 
(louder.) 

"  0,  they'll  be  home  to-night.  How  long 
did  you  say  the  Hardys  had  lived  in  Fen- 
wick  Falls?" 

This  was  about  as  near  to  anything  like 
conversation  as  Nick  could  bring  the  old 
gentleman.  He  would  have  to  stop  and  an- 
swer his  questions,  and  then  return  to  the 
charge  again. 

"  At  what  hour  this  evening  will  Mrs.  Mai- 
ford  be  here?" 

"Hey?" 

"  What  time  to-night  will  your  folks  come 
nome?" 


NICK   INVESTIGATES.  257 

"  0,  they're  coming  home  to  supper.  Did 
you  say  this  Gammel  was  Mulford's  uncle  ?  " 

It  was  up-hill  work.  Nick  began  to  sweat 
considerably,  and  to  debate  in  his  mind 
whether  he  had  not  better  escape  to  a  hotel, 
and  advertise  for  Mrs.  Mulford  to  come  and 
see  him.  3e  sat  like  a  martyr,  and  allowed 
himself  to  be  pumped  till  he  had  told  how 
oil  he  was,  and  what  he  was  doing:  how 
many  brothers  and  sisters  he  had,  and  what 
they  were  doing ;  his  father's  business,  his 
mother's  age,  and  whether  he  Idoked  like 
her ;  how  much  it  was  costing  him  a  year 
to  go  through  college,  and  where  he  expect- 
ed to  get  his  money.  Several  times  the 
young  man  tried  to  shoot  in  a  question  him- 
self, but  it  was  of  no  use.  He  could  not 
begin  to  hold  his  own  with  the  deaf  old 
gentleman.  He  did,  however,  finally  man- 
age to  make  him  say  that  Mrs.  Mulford  would 
be  at  home  at  six  o'clock;  and  with  that 
17 


258  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

he  knew  he  ought  to  consider  himself  fortu- 
nate, and  make  good  his  retreat.  But  having 
faced  the  music  thus  far,  he  was  rash  enough 
to  think  that  he  might  extract  another  answer 
or  two,  if  he  stuck  to  his  work..  He  had  no 
idea  who  the  old  gentleman  was,  and  hated 
to  ask  him ;  but  finding  him  domiciled  at 
No.  14  Henry  Street,  and  remembering  the 
directory,  he  believed  his  gray  head  must 
be  a  perfect  portfolio  of  family  facts  just 
such  as  he,  and  Squire  Gammel,  and  Miss 
Tabitha  Magraw  were  hunting  for,  and  which 
it  would  be  a  great  pity  not  to  find  out. 
He  ventured  to  make  an  inquiry  about  the 
genealogy  of  the  Hanfords. 

"What  do  you  want  to  know  that  for?" 
thundered  the  old  gentleman,  starting  for- 
ward, and  glaring  at  Nick  with  a  pair  of 
gimlet  eyes  that  seemed  to  bore  boles  through 
him.  Nick  undertook  to  explain  into  the 
trumpet.  "  Hey  !  What  do  you  want  to 


NICK  INVESTIGATES.  259 

know  for  ?  '•'  was  the  only  effect  his  explana- 
tion produced. 

He  shouted  into  the  old  ear-trumpet  once 
more,  with  the  same  result,  and  then  gave 
it  up.  Seizing  his  hat,  he  bowed  himself  out 
of  the  house  as  gracefully  as  he  could,  the 
old  gentleman's  words  following  him  into 
the  street  like  a  parting  gun.  "  What  do 
you  want  to  know  for?  Hey?  What  do 
you  want  to  know  that  for  ? " 

Nicholas  walked  away  with  mingled  emo- 
tions of  annoyance,  amusement,  and  wonder. 
,Who  was  this  singular  old  being, —  this  su- 
perannuated interrogation-point,  this  incarna- 
tion of  suspicion  and  curiosity.  The  conun- 
drum was  too  much  for  him. 

He  found  the  aged  widow  Gaines,  after 
a  somewhat  tedious  search,  and  talked  with 
her  an  hour,  receiving  a  great  deal  of  valu- 
able information,  which  he  carefully  wrote 
down.  The  venerable  woman's  manner  with 


THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

was  in  such  contrast  to  his  late  queer 
reception,  that  when  he  left  her  he  felt  all 
the  more  reluctant  to  visit  the  Mulford  house 
again.  He  went  there,  nevertheless,  after 
procuring  his  supper  and  making  his  arrange- 
ments for  the  night;  and  instead  of  the  pry- 
ing old  man  with  the  ear-trumpet,  the  first 
person  he  met  was  his  old  school-mistress  ! 
Mr:  Hanford,  her  husband,  was  Mrs.  Mulford's 
brother,  and  boarded  with  his  family  at  her 
house.  Mrs.  Mulford  soon  came  in,  when 
Nicholas  at  once  delivered  to  her  the  money 
her  husband  had  sent,  and  being  urged 
warmly  by  her  and  her  friends,  decided  to 
stay  and  spend  the  evening.  Nothing  could 
exceed  the  keen  pleasure  he  felt  in  living 
over  his  boyhood  days  with  the  amiable  lady 
who  corrected  his  early  rogueries,  and  was 
one  of  the  first  to  discover  and  call  out  the 
good  that  was  in  him.  It  was  easy  for  him, 
too,  to  obtain  all  the  knowledge  of  her  bus- 


NICK    INVESTIGATES.  261 

band's  family  that  was  of  importance  to  his 
errand.  His  deaf  old  catechizer  was  nowhere 
to  be  seen.  Mr.  Hanford  and  Mrs.  Mulford 
alluded  with  a  peculiar  smile  to  the  young 
man's  call  in  the  afternoon.  The  old  gen- 
tleman was  their  grandfather,  and  his  name 
was  Rodney  Tudor.  They  said  very  little 
about  him  more  than  to  remark  excusingly 
that  he  was  aged  and  had  ways  of  his  own, 
and  that,  being  very  hard  of  hearing,  he 
lived  mostly  in  the  past,  and  rarely  spoke 
unless  he  was  spoken  to.  In  a  few  confi- 
dential words  aside  with  his  friend  Mr&. 
Hanford,  Nicholas  was  given  to  understand 
further  that  "  Grandpa  Tudor  "  was  a  kind 
of  household  hermit,  and  a  trifle  miserly  ;  that 
no  one  knew  how  much  wealth  he  owned, 
and,  in  short,  that  there  was  "  something 
strange  about  him." 


Most  of  our  friend  Nick's  leisure,  after  his 


262  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

return  to  college,  was  employed  in  finishing 
and  committing  to  memory  his  "  Statement 
of  Facts  "  oration.  Custom  allowed  him  to 
make  this  performance  as  eloquent  as  he 
would  and  as  funny  as  he  could.  The  argu- 
ment of  such  a  speech  was  usually  rather 
of  the  order  of  a  "  moot-court "  plea,  being 
very  earnest,  with  a  sprinkling  of  the  mock- 
earnest,  —  an  excellent  practical  lesson  in 
rhetoric,  and  good  play-room  exercise  for 
a  young  advocate.  Indeed,  "Statement  of 
Facts,"  in  its  best  days,  was  an  annual  col- 
lege grand  match  of  rhetorical  gymnastics, 
in  which  youthful  lawyers  and  legislators 
took  their  first  training  in  political  debate. 

The  day  arrived  on  which  our  hero  was 
first  to  take  active  part  in  this  rival  presen- 
tation of  the  two  great  Societies,  and  a  hand- 
some carriage  conveyed  the  Athenic  digni- 
taries of  the  occasion . —  Hardy,  the  Senior 
orator,  and  the  president  —  from  their  hotel 


NICK  INVESTIGATES.  263 

headquarters  to  Brinley  Hall.  To  the  same 
place,  from  a  rival  hotel,  in  similar  pomp, 
rode  the  dignitaries  of  the  Adelphi.  The 
hall  was  crammed  with  "  all  college,"  Seniors, 
Juns,  Sophs,  and  Fresh,  waiting  and  eager 
to  cheer  their  favorite  speakers  as  uproari- 
ously as  they  could.  Were  it  not  that  nearly 
all  the  humor  of  its  hits,  and  the  point  of  its 
polemic,  and  the  force  of  its  argument,  depend- 
ed on  the  relations  and  circumstances  of  the 
hour,  and  vanished  when  these  passed  away,  I 
might  set  down  a  specimen  of  Nicholas'  oration. 
Suffice  it  to  say,  he  proved  to  a  perfect 
demonstration  (as  he  was  expected  to  do) 
that  the  Athenic  graduates  averaged  vastly 
superior  in  history  to  those  of  the  Adelphi, 
and  that  his  society  had  produced  greater 
statesmen,  greater  orators  and  poets,  greater 
masters  of  science,  greater  editors,  greater 
philanthropists,  and  greater  teachers,  and  had 
given  to  the  college  more  presidents  and 


2G4  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

popular  professors  and  tutors,  more  benefac- 
tors of  its  library  and  treasury,  more  prize- 
medal  and  scholarship-men,  more  editors  of 
the  college  magazine,  and  more  Senior  So- 
ciety-men (!)  than  could  be  found  in  all  the 
memorabilia  of  the  other  society,  if  raked 
and  scraped  from  A  to  Izzard.  He  made 
fun  of  the  Adelphi's  hall,  describing  its 
splendors  in  a  strain  of  comic  eulogy  that 
called  out  thunders  of  Athenian  applause  and 
earthquakes  of  Adelphian  groans  ;  and  withal 
(following  the  custom  of  former  years)  he 
ridiculed  the  exploits  of  the  rival  society's 
most  vaunted  hero,  a  man  whose  enterprise 
had  greatly  promoted  stock-farming  and 
manufactures,  portraying  him,  in  verse,  as  an 
importer  of  sheep,  and  sketching  the  scene 
of  his  first  woolly  arrival,  when  — 

"  Hailed  by  ten  thousand  thankful  fcllow-creeturt, 
His  golden  flock  great  Jason  up  the  quay 
Led,  softly  calling  in  iambic  metres 
'Ca-da,  ca-da,  ca-dal'" 


NICK   INVESTIGATES.  265 

And  following  this  with  an  elaborate  account 
of  the  genealogy  of  "  Mary's  Little  Lamb," 
he  rung  the  changes  on  the  distinguished 
sheep-man's  greatness,  ending  off  his  closing 
apostrophe  with  — 

"  So,  still  in  chorus  of  Adelphian  bleaters, 
When  some  new-fleeced  bell-wether  leads  the  way, 
You  hear  the  ghostly  shepherd's  old  canteturs — 
'  Ca-da,  ca-da,  ca-da ! ' " 

But  to  attempt  to  make  my  reader  appre- 
ciate the  pith  and  wit  of  an  old  "  Statement 
of  Facts"  oration  would  be  like  trying  to 
restore  the  natural  flavor  to  a  dried  straw- 
berry, or  a  petrified  peach. 

In  the  afternoon  the  Adelphi  had  their 
turn,  when  waggish  Matt  Calvin,  the  Junior 
orator,  and  his  colleagues,  of  course  proved 
to  a  perfect  demonstration  that  most  of  the 
greatness  and  celebrity  gathered  around  the 
names  in  the  old  college's  "  Triennial,"  be- 
longed to  the  graduates  who  had  been  num- 


266  THE  WOODEN   SPOON. 

bered  in  their  society ;  and  of  course  for 
three  retaliative  hours  the  Athenics  rt  took 
it,"  hip  and  thigh. 

The  day  closed,  leaving  both  parties  in  a 
state  of  great  exultation  and  victorious  as- 
surance, and  the  yet  "  unpledged  "  Freshmen 
in  as  much  doubt  as  ever  which  society  they 
ought  to  join. 


NICK  IS  SURPRISED  SEVERAL  TIMES.      267 


CHAPTER   XII. 

IN  WmCH  NICK  IS  SURPRISED  SEVERAL  TIMES. 

He  thought,  and  thought — and  knew  not  what  to  think. 

COWPEB. 

TT'S  too  unmercifully  bad!"  cried  Hardy, 
rushing  into  his  bedroom  for  his  hat. 
"  It 's  outrageous  !  Here's  the  unpleasant 
side  of  a  practical  joke,  certainly !  Well, 
well ! " 

Two  panting  and  terrified  callers  had 
rushed  in  upon  him  as  he  sat  reading  by 
his  study-fire,  and  almost  upset  him  by  their 
sudden  appearance  and  strange  story.  There 
was  a  man  lost !  What  could  it  mean  ? 
Nick  had  never  been  so  flustered  and  con- 
founded in  his  life. 


268  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

"  Look  here,"  he  exclaimed  again,  stand 
ing  stock-still  with  his  overcoat  on,  and 
his  hat  and  gloves  in  his  hand,  "  I  don't 
know  where  I'm  going,  now.  What  in  the 
Sphinx's  name  can  Oliver  have  done  with 
himself?  Why,  I  saw  him  get  aboard  — 
didn't  I  ?  Is  it  possible  that  the  fellow  —  " 
and  Nick  almost  caught  himself  laughing 
right  in  the  middle  of  the  appalling  quan- 
dary. "  Pshaw !  if  he  did,  of  course  he'd 
keep  still  about  it,  and  take  the  next  train. 
Sit  down,  Nett,  and  rest  yourself,  and  I'll 
run  down  to  the  telegraph-office,  and  send 
a  despatch." 

But  his  company  were  in  no  mood  to  sit 
down.  They  followed  at  his  heels,  and  all 
three  soon  stood  at  the  window  of  the  light- 
ning-man. In  ten  seconds  more  a  piece  of 
paper  slid  in  through  the  window,  with  two 
written  lines  on  it,  signed  "  Nick  Hardy." 

"  Hardy  ?  "  said  the  operator.    "  Here's  a 


NICK  IS  SURPRISED  SEVERAL   TIMES.      269 

despatch  directed  to  '  Hardy/  that  I've  just 
taken  off.     Was  just  going  to  send  it." 
Nick  and  his  companions  eagerly  read  it. 

"  FENWICK  FALLS,  3-20  P.  M.  Oliver  is 
here  all  right.  Come.  JERRY." 

The  mystery  was  not  all  cleared  up  yet ; 
but  they  could  afford  to  laugh.  And  laugh 
they  did  —  all  but  the  young  lady,  who 
looked  as  if  she  wanted  to  cry  in  spite  of 
the  good  news. 

"  What  time  does  the   next  train   go  ?  " 

"  Half  past  nine/'  said  Nick  ;  "  an  hour 
and  a  half  from  now.  You  won't  think  of 
going  home  to-night." 

"  Yes,  I  shall.  Come,  Abe,  I'm  going  back 
to  the  depot." 

"Plucky  girl!"  quoth  Nick,  with  a  flash 
of  admiration.  "  But  here,  I'll  take  care  of 
you  two  till  you  are  ready  to  go." 

The  three  went   to   a   restaurant  and  had 


270  THE  WOODEN   SPOON. 

a  good  supper  and  some  quiet  talk  ;  and 
at  half  past  nine  a  young  man  and  woman 
shook  hands  with  Hardy,  and  got  aboard  the 
eastward-bound  express. 

Now,  before  my  readers  can  know  what 
all  this  means,  1  must  tell  them  that,  the 
day  before,  Hardy  had  been  surprised  and 
delighted  by  a  visit  from  his  old  Fenwick 
schoolmate,  Oliver  Wales.  Oliver  was  an 
honest,  steady-going  young  man,  of  a  mechan- 
ical turn,  thrifty,  plodding,  and  patient,  —  a 
thoroughly  good,  safe,  solid  citizen  of  twenty- 
three.  Though  his  course  at  the  academy 
had  been  somewhat  broken,  and  his  student 
days  ended  there,  he  was  by  no  means  poorly 
educated  ;  and  while  not  brilliant,  his  careful 
habits  and  ready  faculty  with  his  hands  had 
enabled  him  to  coin  money  already  out  of 
an  excellent  trade.  Within  a  few  months 
lie  had  been  given  a  responsible  place  at 


NICK  IS  SURPRISED  SLTERAL  TIMES.      271 

high  wages  in  one  of  the  mills  at  Fenwick 
Falls.  Hardy  had  seen  him  there  during 
the  past  summer.  But  none  the  less  for  that 
was  he  astonished  when  Oliver  walked  intc 
his  room  one  day  just  after  Thanksgiving, 
and  announced  that  he  was  married  !  It 
was  natural  enough  that  Hardy  should  hail 
him  with  rousing  congratulations  and  slaps 
on  the  back.  While  Oliver  was  telling  him 
that  he  intended  to  "  astonish  him  some 
more,"  the  door  opened,  and  Proc  came  in. 

"  Do  you  know  Wales  ?  "  cried  Hardy,  in 
the  hilarity  of  the  moment.  "  The  best  fel- 
low in  the  world  !  I  make  you  acquainted  ;  " 
and  he  presented  him  in  a  way  that  made 
him  and  Proc  fast  friends  at  once.  Pretty 
soon,  with  his  usual  single  knock  and  prompt 
swing  of  the  door,  Matt  Calvin  came  in. 

'Do  you  know  Wales?"  quoth  Proc,  tak- 
ing the  hint  of  freedom  from  Nick's  mood 
and  Wales'  own  good-humor.  And  immedi- 


272  THE  WOODEN   SPOON. 

ately  Oliver  and  Matt  were  introduced  to 
each  other.  The  party  was  growing  jollier, 
as  well  as  larger,  and  Nick  playing  the 
pleased  host,  lugged  out  a  huge  basket  of 
late  pears,  amid  loud  applause. 

"  Now,  fellows,  sit  round,"  said  he  ;  "  we'll 
cut  into  these  Flemish  Beauties,  and  feast 
in  honor  of  our  friend,  a  young  benedict,  — 
just  taken  his  first  matrimonial  degree  !  '' 
And  then,  of  course,  the  fun  was  livelier 
than  ever;  and  if  Nick  had  told  them  that 
the  Flemish  Beauties  were  a  present  to  him 
from  the  "countess,"  there  might  have  xbeen 
more  fun.  In  the  mirlst  of  the  feasting  there 
was  another  sharp  knock  on  the  door,  and 
in  came  Barkenhead  and  Whately.  A  noisy 
mutual  salute  followed,  of  course,  and  the 
merriment  culminated  when  Proc  and  Calvin, 
both  in  a  breath,  asked  them  "  if  they  knew 
Wales." 

Oliver   began   to    think    there    was    some 


NICK  IS  SURPRISED   SEVERAL   TIMES.      273 

preconcerted  method  in  the  sport.  Really, 
however,  the  meeting  of  the  fellows  was  acci- 
dental. It  was  Thanksgiving  recess,  and  they 
had  nothing  to  do  but  visit  each  other,  and 
be  sociable;  and  "Do  you  know  Wales?" 
had  been  suddenly  caught  up  like  any  other 
spontaneous  joke. 

"  Don't  this  remind  you  of  old  Fenwick 
days?''  asked  Hardy  of  Oliver;  and  Oliver 
admitted  that  it  did.  But  for  all  that  he 
grew  uneasy  before  the  visitors  went  away. 
When  he  was  alone  with  Hardy  again,  he 
said,  "  I  must  go  now,  and  you  must  go  with 
me." 

Nick  was  a  little  taken  aback  at  this.  Of 
course  he  was  all  anxiety  to  see  his  friend's 
new  bride,  but  —  but  —  wouldn't  Mrs.  Wales 
be  resting  after  her  journey,  &c.,  <fec. 

•'Well,  the  fact  is,"  said  Oliver,  with  a 
droll  smile,  "  when  I  left  '  Mrs.  Wales,'  she 
was  in  considerable  .of  a  hurry  to  see  you, 
18 


274  THE   WOODEN  SPOON. 

and  I  suppose  she's  wondering  now  why 
you  don't  come." 

"  The  mischief  she  is ! "  exclaimed  Nick, 
who  saw  now  that  there  was  a  discovery 
in  wait  for  him.  He  went  with  Oliver  to 
the  hotel,  and  was  politely  introduced  to 
Jtis  sister  Annette! 

"  You  old  rascal !  I've  a  good  mind  to 
pull  your  whiskers !  How  in  the  world  did 
you  two  manage  to  keep  the  secret  so 
well  ?  "  cried  Nick.  And,  of  course,  his  com- 
ical wonder  was  great  entertainment  to  his 
sister  and  brother-in-law. 

Then  came  the  laughing  explanations.  It 
had  been  a  case  of  "  love  at  first  sight "  be- 
tween Oliver  and  "  Nett."  She  worked  in 
the  loom-room  where  he  was  overseer.  When 
Nick  was  at  home  in  the  summer  there  was 
a  coolness  between  them.  But  her  brother's 
sensible  talk  had  rather  shamed  her  foolish 
notion  of  setting  up  for  a  possible  heiress, 


NICK  IS  SURPRISED   SEVERAL  TIMES.        275 

and  her  real  love  for  the  young  machinist 
came  out  triumphant.  A  Thanksgiving  wed- 
ding was  the  result,  and  they  decided  to 
make  a  bridal  trip  to  New  Harbor,  and  sur- 
prise "  brother  Nick."  "  Brother  Nick  "  was 
inexpressibly  gratified  and  delighted.  He 
dined  with  the  young  couple,  spent  the  after- 
noon showing  them  round,  staid  with  them 
to  supper  (Oliver  insisting  on  paying  all  ex- 
penses), and  in  the  evening,  at  the  bride- 
groom's invitation,  he  took  Proc,  Calvin,  Bar- 
kenhead,  and  Whately  to  the  hotel  to  see 
"  Mrs.  Wales."  Annette  was  pretty,  and  it 
is  needless  to  say  the  young  men  were  highly 
pleased  and  complimentary,  and  left  pledges 
of  romantic  remembrance  when  they  with- 
drew. 

The  next  morning  Nick  accompanied  the 
pair  to  the  railroad  station,  and  while  Oliver 
went  to  see  to  the  loading  of  some  new 
household  purchases,  he  found  his  sister  a 


276  THE  WOODEN  BPOON. 

seat  in  one  of  the  cars.  When  the  three- 
minute  bell  struck  he  left  the  car,  and  soon 
after,  seeing  Oliver  (as  he  supposed,  in  the 
dim  light  of  the  old  underground  depot) 
jump  aboard  near  the  baggage-van,  he  shout- 
ed "  Good-bye  "  to  him,  and  hurried  away- 
just  as  the  train  began  to  move.  And  now 
began  the  vexatious  snarl  that  made  that 
day's  history  the  joke  of  a  whole  honey- 
moon. Having  shipped  his  baggage,  Oliver^ 
bethinking  him  to  purchase  a  package  of 
dainties  for  his  bride,  glanced  at  the  station- 
clock,  and  ran  up  stairs  to  the  refreshment- 
saloon.  The  usual  racket  around  the  depot, 
and  the  noise  of  an  incoming  train,  were 
somewhat  confusing  to  a  stranger.  He  heard 
a  station-signal  while  his  package  was  being 
put  up,  but  the  waiter-girl  told  him  it  was 
the  three-minute  bell.  He  hastened  down  as 
soon  as  he  received  his  confectionery,  but  it 
was  only  to  see  his  train  moving  rapidly 


NICK   IS   SURPRISED  SEVERAL   TIMES.      277 

out  at  the  lower  end  of  the  depot.  The 
bell  he  had  heard  was  the  starting-bell !  He 
ran  with  all  his  might  for  five  or  six  rods 
but  it  was  a  useless  chase.  The  reader  can 
fancy  the  poor  fellow's  emotions.  But  badly 
as  he  felt,  his  deserted  bride  was  in  worse 
distress.  Her  alarm  when  he  failed  to  appear 
increased  with  every  mile  of  the  swift- going 
wheels.  Where  could  Oliver  be  ?  Was  it 
possible  that  he  had  been  left?  Was  he 
forward,  still  busy  with  the  baggage-man? 
Was  he  in  the  smoking-car?  Had  he  been 
killed?  Had  he  run  away?  Every  kind  of 
absurd  and  horrible  suggestion  came  up,  to 
be  as  soon  dismissed  for  another.  The  train 
was  an  express,  and  would  stop  but  once  in 
the  whole  fifty  miles.  All  the  passengers 
were  entire  strangers  to  her,  and  the  bash- 
fulness  of  a  young,  newly-married  girl,  unused 
as  yet  to  speak  of  her  "  husband,"  for  a  long 
time  kept  her  dumb.  She  made  up  her 


278  THE   WOODEN   SPOON. 

mind  to  get  off  at  the  half-way  station,  but 
when  she  finall}T  told  the  conductor  her 
trouble,  he  said  that  undoubtedly  her  com- 
panion was  "  left,"  and  would  coine  on  in 
the  next  train.  Poor  Annette  had  never  in 
all  her  life  done  so  much  thinking  as  she 
did  on  that  desolate  journey.  It  almost  made 
her  old.  But  her  suspense  and  mortification 
were  turned  to  terror  when  she  reached 
home  and  was  shown  a  telegram  just  re- 
ceived from  New  Harbor, — 

"Do  you  know   Wales?" 

The  family  had  puzzled  their  heads  over 
it  in  vain,  and  when  Annette  arrived  with- 
out her  husband,  they  all  sympathized  with 
her  alarm.  In  less  than  ten  minutes  another 
telegram  came, — 

"  We  have  found  a  man  who  don't  know 
Wales." 


NICK  IS  SURPRISED  SEVERAL   TIMES.      279 

Annette  was  nearly  distracted.  She  could 
not  eat.  She  could  not  sit  still.  Nothing 
would  do  but  she  must  start  again  in  the 
next  return  train,  and  get  back  to  New 
Harbor.  A  despatch  was  sent  to  Nick,  mak- 
ing inquiry  (for  both  the  messages  were 
signed  with  a  strange  name),  but  being  mis- 
directed, for  some  reason,  to  the  hotel  where 
Wales  had  lodged,  it  brought  no  response. 
Abe  was  called  out  of  the  mill  to  go  with 
his  sister  in  search  of  her  husband.  It 
was  a  "  case  of  life  and  death,"  and  he 

could    not    refuse.      So  the    two    started  to- 

i 

gether. 

Not  very  far  from  the  same  time  Oliver 
Wales,  worried  and  terribly  impatient  with 
long  waiting,  started  from  New  Harbor  on 
an  eastward  train.  Chagrin  at  his  foolish 
mishap  had  prevented  him  from  reporting 
himself  to  Hardy,  and  he  had  hung  about 
the  depot  forlorn  and  alone.  At  six  oVl<»<  '., 


280  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

the  young  husband  and  wife,  riding  opposite 
ways,  passed,  .all  unconscious,  within  two 
feet  of  each  othor  on  the  railroad.  The 
arrival  of  Annette  in  New  Harbor  produced 
the  scene  described  at  the  opening  of  the 
chapter.  The  arrival  of  Oliver  in  Fenwick 
Falls  set  flying  thev  despatch  from  Jerry, 
which  began  to  put  matters  right  again. 

Proc,  Calvin,  and  the  rest  of  the  pear 
party,  had,  with  Nick's  connivance,  con- 
ceived and  sent  the  two  telegrams  to  Fen- 
wick  Falls,  intending  them  to  reach  there 
about  the  time  he  did,  and  furnish  an  inno- 
cent pleasantry  for  him  to  laugh  at.  And 
this  was  the  way  the  joke  ended. 

But,  as  Nick  declared  with  a  good  deal 
of  gleeful  pride,  the  lively  experiences  of 
that  day  "made  a  woman  of  Nett."  She 
not  only  learned  to  say  "  My  husband  "  out 
plump  and  bold,  but  learned  how  much  she 
loved  him,  and  how  it  seemed  for  once  to 


NICK   IS  SURPRISED   SEVERAL  TIMES.       281 

have  all  her  energies  waked  up,  and  to  act 
decidedly  for  herself. 

A  week  after  the  singular  contretemps  that 
played  such  a  comedy  with  Wales  and  his 
bridal  tour,  Nicholas  Hardy  had  another  sur- 
prise. Term-time  had  come  again,  and  he 
was  hard  at  work  on  his  studies,  when  one 
evening  there  appeared  to  him,  grave  and 
quiet  as  a  Quaker,  the  lost,  forgotten  Bill 
Dickinson !  The  change  in  his  looks  and 
manner  wa's  so  great  that  his  old  classmate 
did  not  at  first  know  him. 

" You  did  it"  he  said,  smiling  when  Nick 
recognized  him  with  a  shout  and  a  grip. 
"  You  just  did  it,  Hardy,  when  you  gave 
me  that  talking  to  up  there  in  Collingwood. 
I've  been  at  work  ever  since  like  a  tiger, 
and  I've  pretty  nearly  caught  up.  I've  been 
here  three  days,  keeping  dark  till  I  had  my 
private  examination ;  and  now,  barring  a  con- 


282  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

dition  on  Mathematics,  I'm  a  Junior  with  a 
clear  title,  and  can  begin  recitations  to- 
morrow ! " 

Hardy  was  so  astonished  and  overjoyed 
that  he  did  not  know  what  to  say.  For 
naif  a  minute  he  stood  looking  at  him. 

"Dick,  brave  old    boy,  I  admire  you!" 

11  Nick,  brave  old  boy,  I  thank  you  !  —  but 
you  may  keep  the  admiration.  I  am  get- 
ting back  some  of  the  ambition  of  better 
days,  and  I  intend  to  get  back  some  of  the 
character,  too.  Pray  for  me,  and  lend  me 
a  helping  hand,  as  you  said  you  would  — 
that's  all." 

"  Aye,  and  I  am  not  the  only  one  who'll 
do  that,  Dick,"  said  Hardy  fervently. 

Bill  Dickinson  was  soon  a  member  of  the 
class  again,  in  good  and  regular  standing; 
and  from  that  time  he  held  on  his  way  nobly, 
completely  redeeming  himself  long  before  the 
end  of  his  course. 


NICK  IS  SUEPRISED   SEVEEAL  TIMES.      283 

By  the  end  of  winter  the  condition  of  hia 
finances  began  to  trouble  Hardy  again.  So 
far  as  time  was  money,  his  course  thus  far  in 
his  third  year  had  been  easier  for  his  means, 
and  his  membership  in  a  Junior  society  was 
not  wasteful  either  of  dollars  or  hours.  But 
one  soon  finds  the  bottom  of  a  short  purse, 
and  now  Nick's  old  problem  returned  upon 
him.  He  determined  that  he  would  try  to 
obtain  a  class,  or  a  place  as  tutor  in  some 
one  of  the  schools  of  the  city. 

Junior  Exhibition  (a  sort  of  rehearsal  "  in 
character  "  of  the  grand  graduation  perform- 
ance on  Commencement  Stage-day,  a  year 
later)  came  on  early  in  April,  and  for  the 
first  time  the  members  of  the  class  stood 
before  the  college  public,  ranged  according 
to  their  scholarship.  Hardy  had  an  oration, 
but  chose  to  write  his  part  in  verse,  and  of 
course  his  name  appeared  on  the  programme 
with  a  "  poem "  scheduled  against  it.  The 


284  TffE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

title  of  his  poem  was  "  The  Last  King  of  At- 
lantis ; "  and  after  the  exhibition  was  over, 
he  found  that  he  had  had  at  least  one  appre- 
ciative hearer  more  than  he  counted  on. 
Away  up  in  a  back  seat  of  the  gallery  of 
the  old  chapel,  the  only  seat  he  could  find 
unfilled,  sat  a  man  who,  attracted  first  by  the 
poet's  subject,  listened  to  his  poem  with 
vivid  relish  from  prelude  to  epilogue ;  and 
that  man  took  the  trouble  to  inquire  out  the 
poet's  room,  and  wait  for  him  in  the  dark 
hall  till  he  came  up.  Hardy  was  not  a  little 
perplexed  to  meet,  at  ten  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  a  stranger  at  his  door  who  intro- 
duced himself  as  Horace  Godwin,  and  he 
was  still  more  perplexed  when,  on  being  in- 
vited in,  the  man  excused  his  presence  on 
the  ground  of  his  old  interest  in  the  legend 
of  the  lost  Atlantis,  and  his  new  interest  in 
its  poetic  treatment  on  the  stage  that  night, 
and  went  on  to  say  that  he  hoped  no  apol- 


NICK   IS  SURPRISED   SEVERAL   TIMES.      285 

ogy  was  needed  for  desiring  to  be  acquaint 
ed  with  the  author  of  such  lines  as,- — 

"  The  sunlight  slept  on  Atalan, 
And,  gleaming  like  a  warrior's  helm, 
The  palace-domes  of  Odofan 
Rose  up  amid  her  island  realm. 
Soft  were  the  ocean  winds  among 
Her  glens  as  dreamer's  breathing  free, 
And  siren-sweet  the  birds  that  sung 
In  that  Al  Irem  of  the  sea, 
Where  groves  of  nut  and  banyan  green 
Grew  aged  in  the-  climate  calm, 
And,  crowning  all  the  leafy  scene, 

Towered  fadeless  summer's  tops  of  palm." 

I 

Hardy's  perplexity  became  amazement  now. 
The  strange  man  was  repeating  his  poem 
word  for  word  !  And  he  went  on  repeating, 
line  after  line,  until  he  was  stopped.  Hardy, 
who  had  struck  his  light  and  seated  his 
guest,  sat  down  himself  and  gazed  at  him. 
Horace  Godwin  was  a  medium-sized,  heavily, 
bearded  man,  with  a  bald  head,  unsatisfac- 


286  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

tory  blue  eyes,  and  rather  seedy  clothes; 
but  Horace  Godwin  was  evidently  a  prodigy. 
He  began  to  talk  prose,  and  the  prose  was 
a  great  deal  more  wonderful  than  the  poe- 
try, for  it  was  his  own.  His  language  was 
choice,  and  his  sentences  fairly  sparkled 
with  rhetorical  beauty  ;  and  when  he  began 
to  quote  again  it  seemed  to  make  no  differ- 
ence with  him  whether  he  quoted  English, 
or  Latin,  or  Greek.  ' 

"  I  think  that  in  your  story  of  Atlantis 
you  followed  the  hints  of  Plato,  Mr.  Hardy," 
said  he  courteously. 

"  Partly  Plato,  and  partly  fancy,"  replied 
Hardy,  laughing. 

"  You  preferred  that  form  of  the  legend 
to  the  account  given  by  Theopompus?" 

"  I  never  read  Theopompus,"  said  Hardy. 

"  Ah  !  so  your  eye  never  happened  to 
fall  on  that  rich  old  fragment  in  Aelian's 
Ponce  Sistorioe  / "  and  he  glided  into  the 


NIGK  IS  SURPRISED  SEVERAL  TIMES.       287 

story  as  familiarly  and  naturally  as  if  he 
had  been  relating  the  adventures  of  Robinson 
Crusoe,  giving  it  in  charming  English,  min- 
gled with  more  charming  Greek,  but  appar- 
ently checking  himself  in  the  latter,  as  though 
afraid  it  might  sound  a  little  pedantic. 

"  Let  me  have  the  original/'  said  Hardy 
(to  try  him).  "  You  are  telling  me  more 
about  Atlantis  than  I  ever  knew." 

And,  to  his  astonishment,  Godwin,  without 
the  slightest  sign  of  consciousness  that  he 
was  performing  a  feat,  went  on  fluently  recit- 
ing the  original  Greek  of  Theopompus'  frag- 
ment in  Aelian,  till  Hardy  ached  with  sheer 
pain  of  attention  in  -trying  to  follow  him. 
Wrought  up  to  the  highest  pitch  of  wonder 
and  curiosity,  he  contrived  to  change  the 
subject  and  introduce  conversation  that  would 
"  draw  out "  his  accomplished  visitor  in  other 
directions.  He  found  that  he  was  as  familiar 
with  the  living  languages  of  Europe  as  with 


288  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

the  old  classics ;  and  when  he  appealed  to 
him  on  some  question  in  his  French  and 
German  (for  Nick  had  taken  up  these  as 
Junior  "  optionals  "),  and  begged  him  to  ren- 
der the  meaning  of  sundry  remembered  cru- 
cial passages  in  his  Cicero,  Livy,  Tacitus, 
.rfEschylus,  and  Arrian,  he  translated  and  ex- 
plained everything  with  an  ease  and  nicety 
that  showed  cultured  taste  no  less  than 
thorough  learning.  0 

It  seemed  to  Hardy  that  he  had  never 
before  met  so  ripe  a  scholar.  By  leading 
suggestions,  and  partly  by  direct  inquiry, 
he  learned  that  Godwin  was  a  graduate  of 
an  •  English  university.  How  to  reconcile 
this  with  his  present  threadbare  appearance 
troubled  Nick  not  a  little.  Perhaps  the  vis- 
itor divined  his  thoughts,  and  meant  to  divert 
him,  for  he  made  a  remark  calling  attention 
to  the  old  wooden-spoon  bowl,  which  Hardy 
now  kept  hung,  with  other  characteristic 


KICK   IS  SUEPRISED   SEVERAL    TIMES.      289 

college-boy  trophies,  on  the  wall  of  his 
room. 

"You  are  not  a  cochleaureatus?" 

"  No,  sir.  That  is  supposed  to  be  a  relic 
of  an  old  sea-faring  ancestor  of  mine  —  a 
souvenir  of  his  captivity  and  rescue  from 
starvation,  among  the  Turks,  or  Tartars,  or 
some  such  kind  of  people." 

"  Ah,  one  of  the  Viatka  spoons,  perhaps. 
They  make  thirty  millions  of  those  wooden 
ladles  in  Russia  every  year." 

"  I  don't  know.  The  story  goes  that  he 
made  it  himself,  —  or  had  it  made,  —  and 
.that  the  handle  had  a  diamond  in  it." 

"  I  see.  An  heirloom  with  a  mystery  to 
it.  There's  a  boating  chorus  it  recalls  to 
mind.  "We  used  to  sing  it  at  the  university. 

'  O,  the  old  sun  laughs  as  he  lightly  quaffs 

His  ocean-cup  merry  and  boon, 
And  brave  eyes  wink  o'er  the  foamy  drink 
That's  stirred  with  the  commodore's  spoon."* 

19 


290  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

"  A  decidedly  bibulous  song,"  said  Nick. 
"  But  I  am  a  teetotaller,  and  I  should  be 
sorry  if  the  commodore  had  ever  stirred  his 
drink  with  that  spoon." 

"  Possibly  he  did,  though,  if  old  Commo- 
dore Hardy  is  the  man  meant,"  said  Godwin, 
laughing,  as  he  rose  to  go. 

It  was  nearly  midnight.  He  placed  in 
Hardy's  hand  a  small  book  written  by  him- 
self, a  treatise  on  the  legend  of  Atlantis. 
Nicholas  expressed  his  obligations,  not  at- 
tempting to  conceal  his  wonder  at  the  man's 
rare  learning ;  nor  could  he  avoid  hinting 
an  inquiry  as  to  his  present  location  and 
business. 

"  A  man  of  your  attainments,"  said  he, 
with  another  involuntary  glance  at  his  seedy 
clothes,  "should  command  ten  thousand  a 
year." 

Horace  Godwin's  unsatisfactory  blue  eyes 


NICK  IS  SUEPRISED  SEVERAL   TIMES.      291 

flashed.  %  "Mr.  Hardy,"  said  he,  "I  am  not 
a  teetotaller,  like  you.  In  this  country  that 
makes  all  the  difference  between  the  few 
hundreds  I  get  for  translating  commercial  let- 
ters, and  the  possible  '  ten  thousand.'  I  lost 
a  tutor's  position,"  he  continued,  resuming 
the  easy  frankness  he  had  shown  at  first, 
"  a  few  weeks  ago,  at  the  Park  Avenue 
Female  Seminary,  because  they  found  out 
I  loved  wine  too  well.  Probably  it  is  better 
that  a  man  of  my  appetites  should  be  kept 
poor.  And  so  we'll  let  that  go."  And  after 
a  little  general  conversation,  and  a  brief 
passage  of  courtesies,  the  seedy  scholar  took 
his  leave. 

If  I  say  that  eventually,  through  the  influ- 
ence of  the  venerable  clergyman  whom  he 
had  met  at  Miss  Tabitha  Magraw's,  Nick 
secured  a  private  class  for  his  remarkable 
new  friend,  I  shall  only  anticipate  a  little; 


292  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

and  if  I  say  that,  on  the  recommendation  of 
Professor  Thirwall,  he  secured  Horace  God- 
win's lost  tutorship  at  the  Park  Avenue  for 
himself,  I  shall  only  state  what  my  reader 
might  have  guessed  without  doing  injustice 
to  anybody.  When  he'first  saw  his  class 
he  noticed  that  one  of  the  pupils,  a  beauti- 
ful young  lady,  blushed  and  evidently  recog- 
nized him.  But  it  was  not  till  he  spoke 
to  her,  after  the  lesson,  that  he  could  really 
recall  who  she  was. 

"  It  is  nearly  four  years  since  I  betat  you 
in  the  Virgil  match  at  Fenwick,"  she  said 
roguishly. 

"  Miss  Nelly  Lincoln  !  Well,  you  have 
changed.  How  long  have  you  been  here  ? " 

"  Almost  two  terms.  Father  came  here 
with  me  just  before  last  summer  vacation, 
and  entered  my  name." 

Hardy  smiled  curiously.     UI  do  not  know 


NICK  IS  SURPRISED   SEVERAL  TIMES.        293 

how  I  happened  to  have  this  with  me;  it 
has  been  a  good  while  folded,"  he  said.  And 
he  took  from  one  of  his  pockets  the  little 
lace-edged  handkerchief  he  had  picked  up 
on  the  cliff,  and  restored  it  to  its  owner. 


294  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

IN  WHICH  NICK  HELPS  THE  "  COCHLEAUBEATI." 

.  .    One  of  many  '  wooden  spoons,' 
....  (The  name  with  which  we  Cantabs  please 
To  dub  the  last  of  honors  in  degrees.)  —  BYBON. 


nnHE  position  of  the  highest  scholars  in  a 
large  college  often  brings  more  honor 
than  comfort,  for  it  is  no  easy  thing  to  fill  it 
gracefully  and  to  popular  acceptance.  Led 
naturally,  by  their  similarity  of  attainments, 
to  associate  with  each  other,  these  "first 
men  "  are  likely  to  create  a  suspicion  of  being 
exclusive  and  aristocratic,  which  is  sure  to 
bring  upon  them  the  unmerciful  banter  of  all 
the  low-appointment  and  no-appointment  men, 
who  are  the  large  majority  of  the  class.  The 
middle  scholars,  on  the  contrary,  are  almost 


NICK  HELPS  THE  "  COCHLEAUREATI."      295 

always  OD  excellent  terms  with  the  highest 
and  the  lowest,  being  equally  able  to  appre- 
ciate the  real  excellence  of  the  "  first  men," 
and  to  laugh  with  the  multitude  at  any  airs 
they  may  put  on.  Nicholas  Hardy's  "  stand  " 
as  a  scholar  placed  him  very  much  like  this, 
in  his  class,  and  as  it  had  become  customary 
in  his  day  for  the  cochleaureati*  or  mock- 
honor  men,  to  select  the  actors  for  their 
'•  Wooden  Spoon  Exhibition  "  from  the  most 
"  witty,  genial,  and  gentlemanly,"  as  well  as 
from  the  poorest  scholars  of  the  class,  there 
was  no  unfitness  in  his  accepting  a  part  for 
which  his  popularity  put  him  in  demand. 

The  Wooden  Spoon  Exhibition  was  a  bur- 
lesque of  Junior  exhibition,  and  occurred  two 

*  From  the  Latin  cochlear,  "  spoon,"  and  laureatus, 
"crowned."  The  tochleaureati,  or  "spoon-laureates,"  were 
originally  all  the  Juniors  who  took  no  "honor,"  or  got  no  ap- 
pointment on  the  Junior  exhibition  list.  The  student  who  took 
the  Wooden  Spoon  was  (originally)  the  last  "  colloquy "  man, 
or  the  one  standing  lowest  on  the  appointment  list. 


296  THE    WOODEN   SPOON. 

months  later,  or  towards  the  close  of  the  col- 
lege year.  Hardy  agreed  to  prepare,  and 
read  or  deliver,  a  treatise  of  some  kind  on 
the  occasion,  suitably  humorous  and  absurd, 
of  course;  and  his  presence  and  Matt  Cal- 
vin's (the  only  other  "  oration  "  man  who  took 
part)  would  relieve  the  spoon-laureates  from 
their  supposed  pretension  that  wit  and  poor 
scholarship  went  together. 

There  was  a  general  feeling  that  Proc 
ought  to  be  made  the  recipient  of  the  wooden 
spoon,  but  the  very  canons  of  irony  that 
would  seem  to  have  assured  it  to  him  cut 
him  off  with  a  technicality.  The  "  honors  " 
had  not  extended  down  far  enough  to  touch 
Proc,  nor  would  have  done  so  if  the  Fac- 
ulty had  tacked  on  a  "third  colloquy,"  or 
a  "  soliloquy "  below  that,  and,  as  the  the- 
ory of  the  matter  then  stood,  it  would  mar 
the  point  of  the  satire  if  the  spoon-man 
should  be  any  other  than  the  lowest  scholar 


NICK   HELPS   THE  "  COCnLEATJREATI."     297 

who  got  an  appointment.  The  spoon,  invested 
with  all  the  fun  and  comical  pomp  of  a  public 
presentation,  was  that  individual's  perqui- 
site, to  console  him  for  his  ridiculous  and 
exposed  position  as  tail-end  man.  In  Nick's 
class,  the  tail-end  man  happened  to  be  Bark- 
enhead ;  and  to  Barkenhead  accordingly  was 
assigned  the  spoon.  Bark  was  rich  enough 
to  shoulder  the  distinction,  and  carry  it  off 
quite  grandly ;  and  in  fact  the  majority  of  the 
"  cochleaureates "  could  make  up  in  money 
what  they  lacked  in  scholarship.  Of  course 
they  bore  all  expenses,  and  honorary  partners 
like  Hardy  and  Calvin  shared  the  presen- 
tation sport  without  being  taxed  to  "  pay 
the  fiddlers,"  which  —  considering  that  said 
"  fiddlers  "  were  the  famous  Dodworth's  Band 
from  New  York  —  was  no  trifling  exemption. 
Barkenhead  entered  on  his  preparations 
with  a  zeal  which  he  had  never  shown  over 
his  books.  The  time  he  spent  studying  pat- 


298  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

terns,  and  negotiating  with  wood  engravers 
and  silversmiths,  would,  if  employed  in  reg- 
ular work,  have  redeemed  many  a  dismal 
flunk  in  his  logic  and  mathematics.  But  ii 
it  had  not  been  this  diversion,  it  would  have 
been  some  other,  and  Bark  was  fortunate  in 
having  nothing  more  frivolous  or  questionable 
than  a  wooden  spoon  to  take  up  his  mind. 
He  could  find  nothing,  in  all  his  search  after 
models, 'that  pleased  him  so  well  as  the  old 
relic  that  hung  in  Hardy's  room ;  and  many 
and  frequent  trips  thither  his  long  legs  made 
pending  his  cochleaureate  knighthood.  He 
examined  the  ancient  bowl  and  its  stump  of 
a  handle  with  critical  admiration,  and  shouted 
approval  while  Nick,  with  the  gravity  of  a 
grand  vizier,  set  forth  the  mysterious  value 
of  the  venerable  piece,  and  told  its  history 
with  eloquent  embellishments,  and  the  end 
was  the  adoption  of  its  design,  in  every 
known  particular,  for  the  ceremonial  spoon. 


NICK  HELPS  THE  "  COCHLEAUBEATI."     299 

Nick's  poetical  fancy  supplied  the  pattern  of 
the  handle,  and  the  order  was  committed  to 
the  artists,  who  in  due  time  turned  out  a 
perfect  chef  d'ceuvre  of  a  ladle  three  feet 
long.  There  was  something  weird-looking  in 
the  very  beauty  of  the  carved,  polished, 
black-walnut,  silver-mounted  wonder  to  Nick 
when  he  first  saw  it.  The  curious  old  sharp- 
beaked  bowl  that  he  had  looked  at  so  long,, 
and  dreamed  ove"r  sometimes,  had  been  re- 
produced exactly,  with  its  delicately  moulded 
rim}  and  its  rakish  taper,  and  its  exquisitely 
carved  grape-leaf  on  the  convex  at  the  spring 
of  the  handle,  —  only  the  copy  had  a  fine 
silver  line  running  round  the  border.  This 
variety,  however,  was  probably  a  restoration, 
for  Barkenhead,  in  squinting  over  the  origi- 
nal, had  discovered  a  bit  of  silver  thread 
deep  in  the  wood,  and  insisted,  with  very 
ingenious  show  of  reason,  that  the  missing 
portion  of  the  thread  had  once  encircled  the 


300  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

bowl,  starting  each  way  from  the  thumb- 
swell,  and  following  the  little  groove  under 
the  bead.  The  handle  of  the  spoon  was  an 
elegant  stem,  having  the  spinal,  line-of-beauty 
curve,  elaborated  to  the  tip  with  chevron  and 
scale-work)  and  silvered  with  fillets  and  dam- 
askeen filigree.  The  flat  end  bore  a  silver 
escutcheon,  with  the  presentation  date  and 
the  recipient's  name,  and  I  must  not  omit  to 
add  that  in  the  stoutest  part  of  this -sump- 
tuous stick  was  an  invisible  hollow  screw- 
joint,  where  Barkenhead  had  taken  the  humor 
(from  Nick's  "diamond"  story)  to  put  a  fine 
rock-crystal  in.  Bark  said  he  calculated  to 
"  start  an  antiquity  of  his  own ;  "  but  whether 
he  intended  to  "play  it"  on  some  future 
spoon-man,  with  the  sham  diamond,  he  never 
told.  The  new  ladle,  on  the  whole,  did  have 
a  rather  original  and  distinguished  appear- 
ance. The  bowl,  with  its  singular  breadth  of 
bulge,  and  sharpened  oval,  so  suggestive  of 


NICK   HELPS   THE   "  COCHLEAUREATI."      301 

an  arrow-head  in  the  stemless  model,  now, 
with  the  sinuous  handle  behind  it,  reminded 
one  of  the  head  of  a  living  creature ;  and 
when  Bark,  with  a  glow  of  artistic  pride, 
declared  that  the  spoon  looked  "  like  a  sea- 
serpent,"  Nick  said  yes,  and  wondered  how 
nearly  his  guesswork  had  restored  the  real 
form  and  fashion  of  the  old  spoon  of  sea- 
faring Solomon  Hardee. 

All  ready  for  the  grand  pageant  at  last  1 
For  one  night  certainly  the  Cochleaureati 
would  be  the  college  world's  ascendant  stars. 
High-appointment  men  must  hide  their  di- 
minished heads,  and  subsist  on  self-conscious 
greatness.  The  fair  public  would  not  notice 
them.  This  evening  white  handkerchiefs,  and 
bouquets,  and  gloved  applause,  are  all  for  the 
"  good  fellows." 

At  an  early  hour  Brinley  Hall  was  crowded 
from  stage  to  vestibule  with  as  handsome  and 
genteel  an  audience  as  a  handsome  and  gen- 


302  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

teel  city  could  send.  Seniors,  Jun."ors,  Soph- 
omores, and  all  the  Freshmen  who  were  smart 
enough  to  get  two  tickets,  were  there  with 
their  ladies,  gathered  from  far  and  near.  No 
affair  in  the  whole  series  of  college  exhibi- 
tions could  draw  such  an  attendance  of 
beauty  as  invariably  graced  the  Presentation 
of  the  Wooden  Spoon.  It  was  an  amusement, 
and  in  that  character  of  attractiveness  stood 
alone  —  the  " Midsummer  Night's  Dream"  of 
the  university  year.  The  whole  floor  of  the 
hall,  with  its  four  hundred  fluttering  fans,  and 
four  hundred  dainty  June  bonnets,  and  four 
hundred  fair  girl  faces,  looked  like  a  great 
garden  of  breeze-blown  roses.  Among  the 
"  roses "  sat  Miss  Nelly  Lincoln  (changed  to 
"  Nellie  "  now,  of  course),  beside  our  friend 
Hardy,  whose  slight  connection,  by  the  way, 
with  Park  Avenue  Female  Seminary  as  one- 
hour-in-the-day  tutor,  put  him  under  no  more 
obligation  to  be  shy  of  attending  one  of  its 


NICK   HELPS   THE   "  COCHLEAUREATI."      303 

lady  students  than  if  he  had  been  an  outsider 
entirely. 

The  "  Opening  Load "  was  given  on  the 
programme  as  the  "  Overturn  to  the  Caliph 
of  Bag-dad,"  and  the  audience  waited  until 
they  began  to  laugh,  thinking  they  were  sold; 
then  the  curtain  rose,  and  they  saw  a  little 
wooden  ("  Trojan ")  horse  lying  heels  up- 
wards, and  JEneas  carrying  old  Anchises  off 
the  stage  in  a  sack  slung  over  his  shoulder, 
while  Dodworth's  Band  finished  the  overture 
in  good  earnest,  and  brought  down  the  house 
by  playing  "  Captain  Jinks  of  the  Horse- 
Marines." 

The  "  Salutatory  by  the  Nine  Muses  "  was 
then  announced,  and  the  nine  Spoon-Com- 
mittee men  came  out,  all  in  black  broadcloth 
pants  and  swallow-tails,  white  vests  and 
white  cravits,  with  little  gold  spoon  badges 
on  their  coat  lappf/ls,  and  made  their  formal 
bow,  standing  in  a  row.  The  address  was  a 


304  THE  WOODEN   SPOON. 

queer  farrago  in  two  or  three  languages,  full 
of  hits  arid  puns,  with  enough  English  in  it 
to  be  pretty  well  understood  (with  the  aid  o£ 
the  abundant  pantomime  that  accompanied 
it)  even  by  the  lady  listeners  ;  but  the  real 
oddity  of  it  was,  that  the  middle  man  of  the 
nine  did  all  the  talking,  and  the  joke  of  it 
was,  that  the  majority  of  the  audience  did  not 
know  it.  The  left-end  man  stepped  to  the 
front,,  and  gesticulated  and  moved  his  lips 
just  as  the  first  words  were  spoken,  and  con- 
tinued to  do  so  through  the  first  paragraph 
of  the  address,  when  he  retired  behind,  ajid 
the  right-end  man  took  his  place,  moving  his 
arms  and  lips  in  like  manner,  and  retiring  as 
the  first  had  done  to  give  place  to  the  next 
man  on  the  left  of  the  row ;  and  this  was 
kept  up  through  all  the  nine  divisions  of  the 
salutatory,  each  man  taking  his  turn  to  stand 
directly  in  front  of  the  real  speaker  and  make 
the  gestures,  and  retire  behind,  till  the  whole 


NICK  HELPS   THE   "  COCHLEAUREA.TI."      305 

nine  stood  in  single  file  back  to  the  wall,  with 
the  speaker  in  front.  The  laughter  began 
when  it  got  whispered  about  that  the  appar- 
ent speakers  said  nothing  at  all,  and  then, 
when  everybody  knew  it,  the  laughter  only 
increased  because  the  deception  was  so  com 
plete. 

The  bete  noir  of  all  spoon-men  is  the  Phi 
Beta  Kappa  Society,  that  ethereal  order  of 
learning's  aristocracy  whereinto  the  elite  of 
every  college's  resultant  scholarship  float  at 
graduation,  and  dwell  in  mutual  apotheosis: 
and  it  is  against  this  high  fraternity,  and  its 
badge  (a  great,  square,  gold  watch-key),  that 
the  satirical  wit  of  the  spoon-laureates  loves 
to  discharge  its  shafts,  only  taking  care  to 
keep  within  the  bounds  of  harmless  fun.  In 
the  emblem  or  armorial  ensign  of  the  "  coch- 
ieaureati,"  the  shield  bears  on  its  lower  right 
quarter  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa  key  turned 
wrong  end  up,  and  the  motto  across  the 
20 


306  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

shield  is,  Super  sinistram  lugemus,  "  We  feel 
bad  over  the  left."  Under  that  emblem  (at 
the  head  of  their  programme)  our  waggish 
performers  continued  to  bombard  the  scho- 
lastic aristocrats  in  disquisitions,  songs,  col- 
loquies, pantomimes,  and  rubs,  all  the  way 
from  the  ninefold  salutatory  to  Barkenhead's 
reception  speech,  Dodworth's  Band  coming 
between  in  the  breathing-places,  applying 
musical  salve,  to  set  them  up  so  that  they 
could  be  knocked  down  again. 

The   first  song  by  "  We  First   Men "  was 
"Clio's  Gift,"  set  to  a  familiar  air. 

"'Tis  said  that  when  the  Muses 

s 

Dwelt  on  Parnassian  rocks, 
The  lasses  kept  their  sewing 

In  old  Pandora's  box; 
And  once,  with  all  their  gossips, 

One  eve  in  leafy  June, 
They  chatted  o'er  their  nectar, 

Stirred  with  a  Wooden  Spoon." 

Minerva  and  several  "  weird  sisters  "come 
iu  (the  song  went  on  to  say),  and  the  talk  is 


NICK   HELPS   THE   "  COCHLEAUREATI."      307 

on  contributing  prizes  to  encourage  learning 
among  men. 

"  Out  spoke  the  hag  Medusa, 

(A  Gorgon  foul  was  she,) 
'  I  for  a  badge  of  honor 

Will  give  Pandora's  KEY.' 
'That  stolen  badge,'  cried  Clio, 

'Will  prove  a  slighted  boon.  • 

WE  for  a  meed  of  merit 

Will  give  our  Wooden  Spoon.'" 

The    next   song   was   sentimental,  —  "The 
Spoon-Man's  Soliloquy,"  —  sung  to   the  tune 

of  «  Hazel  Dell." 

<» 

"When  at  prizes  fair  I  first  did  shy  thce, 

Gemmy  optic  mine, 
Though  full  softly  they  went  stealing  by  me, 

I  did  not  repine. 
For  the  spoon  alone  it  could  awake  me 

With  its  stirring  tone, 
And  I  said,  '  My  "spoon,  I'll  ne'er  forsake  tiiee ! 

Fondly  be  mine  own.' 

In  my  dreams  thy  plated  stem  soft  glowing 
Shone  with  silver  flame; 


808  THE   WOODEN   SPOON. 

Oft  I  marked  how  goblins  small  and  knowing 
Carved  thereon  my  name,"  Ac.,  &c. 

Another  song  was  a  comical  variation  on 
the  old  Ethiopian  melody,  "  Stop  dat  knockin'/' 
representing  the  "  ins."  (pale  Ph.  B.  K.  can- 
didates,) and  the  "outs/'  (muscular  class- 
bpys,)  engaged  in  sharp  dialogue,  and  a  Fresh- 
man between  them,  like  the  ass  between  two 
bundles  of  hay.  And  a  very  laughable,  mu- 
sical jingle  the  chorus  made,  Charley  Dur- 
kee's  ringing  tenor  leading  the  teasing  re- 
frain, — 

"College  honors!  college  honors! 
College  honors!  college  honors!" 

and  the  bottomless  bass  of  big  Heman  Tim- 
othy, in  recurrent  short-stop,  thundering, — 

"Wooden  Spoon!" 

Of  course  these  songs  came  in  at  judicious 
intervals,  and  I  have  only  mentioned  them 
together  for  the  sake  of  convenience. 


NICK   HELPS   THE   u  COCHLEAUREATI."      309 

Hardy's  part  in  the  performance  was  a 
"Philosophical  Disquisition  on  Noses."  It  was 
not  his  place  to  ridicule  scholarship,  and  so, 
while  much  of  his  mirth-making  was  mildly 
sarcastical,  the  hits  were  only  at  manners  and 
"  biped  miseries,"  and  with  now  and  then  a 
dash  of  "  accidental "  mimicry,  (for  his  won- 
derful facial  and  vocal  talent  for  that  had  never 
left  him.)  His  "Electrical  Pry  Prognos(e)- 
stick,"  full  of  wittily-warped  quotations  and 
punning  points,  cuffed  the  meddlers  who  stick 
their  noses  into  other  people's  business,  and 
singled  out  college  bores  in  particular,  with 
ludicrous  directions  how  to  know  when  they 
are  coming,  and  how  to  get  rid  of  them ;  and 
when  he  discussed  the  "  nos(e)ology  of  turn- 
ups," with  a  great  many  drolly-apt  illustra- 
tions from  old  Nos(e)tradamus,  the  college 
snobs  and  boarding-school  flora-flimsys  got 
the  most  laughable  basting  they  had  ever  had 
in  their  lives.  His  nearest  approach  to  prick- 


310  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

ing  the  "  high "  scholars  was  when  he  pre- 
tended "to  give  Spinoza's  diagnos(e)is  of 
roots,"  arid  after  recounting  with  comical 
gravity  the  different  sorts  of  noses  that 
would  not  or  could  not  "  do  their  own  root- 
ing," and  the  reasons  why,  fired  a  single 
squib  at  the  "  Sanscrit  digs  "  who  shut  them- 
selves up,  and  spend  days  and  nights  nosing 
out  the  etymology  of  a  word  through  eight 
languages  and  seventeen  dialects.  Some 
parts  of  his  speech  were  a  mere  play  upon 
words,  but  this  excited  even  more  merriment 
than  the  rest,  being  more  simply  and  imme- 
diately amusing.  The  readiness  with  which 
all  the  college  boys  took  it,  and  imparted  it 
to  their  fair  companions,  kept  a  breeze  of 
mirth  in  motion  all  over  the  hall.  This  was 
especially  so  when  Hardy  in  one  passage 
parodied  the  style  (and  almost  the  very 
words)  of  a  recent  class  lecture  in  metaphys- 
ics, in  which  the  continued  pronunciation  of 


NICK   HELPS   THE   "  COCHLEA UREATI."      311 

nose  made  the  absurdest  kind  of  scientific 
sing-song.  "  If  a  man  knows,  how  does  he 
know  that  he  knows  ?  And  if  he  knows  that 
he  knows,  how  does  he  know  that  he  knowa 
that  he  knows  ?  "  And  when  he  had  run  that 
far  enough,  he  made  a  practical  application  of 
it  in  the  same  style.  "  If  a  man  knows  what 
he  knows  he'll  be-  happy.  If  he  knows  not, 
and  knows  that  he  knows  not,  he'll  be  tol- 
erably comfortable.  If  he  knows  not,  and 
knows  not  that  he  knows  not,  hell  be  mis- 
erable." The  imitation  was  so  exact,  that  the 
professor  of  metaphysics  would  have  laughed 
himself,  if  he  had  been  there.  Hardy  fol- 
lowed this  with  a  humorous  argument  to 
prove  that  there  is  no  "  wasted  sweetness," 
and  ended  by  saying  that  the  earth  itself 
would  one  day  smell  its  own  flowers,  which 
prophecy  he  fortified  with 

"Xos(c)  habcbit  humus."* 

*  Humorously  translated,  "The  ground  will  have  a  nose." 
The  Latin  is  a.  line  from  the  old  college  song,  "  Gaudeamiu." 


812  THE   WOODEN  SPOON. 

I  must  not  omit  to  mention  the  Phi  BM* 
Kappa  "  colloquy,"  got  up  by  Matt  Calvin, 
which  probably  made  more  fun  than  anything 
else  "  down  on  the  bill."  There  was  slim 
Ned  Binney  standing  with  both  his  arms 
crooked  out  and  in  till  his  fingers  touched  his 
waist,  making  him  look  just  like  the  Greek 
letter  Phi.  Next  to  him  stood  slim  Will 
Sampson  making  a  B  of  himself  with  one 
elbow  and  one  knee.  And  last  in  the  row, 
slimmer  Bob  Barkenhead  (amid  frantic  ap- 
plause) executed  a  K  by  sticking  out  diag- 
onally one  of  his  arms  and  one  of  his  long 
legs.  In  that  painful  pose  the  three  com- 
menced to  sing,  in  weak,  squeaking  voices  — 

"Phi  Beta,  the  empress  of  honors! 

Her  fare  is  the  fare  for  me; 
She  gives  easy  entrance  to  fawners, 
And  I'm  bound  to  carry  the  key. 

Then  strike  up  the  trump  and  the  chipper, 

And  fiddle,  and  big  whang-jar. 
Three  choors  for  Phi  Beta  Kappa, 
Hurrah !  hurrah !  hurrah  I 


NICK  HELPS  THE   "  COCHLEAUREATI."      313 

"Phi  Beta,  the  hope  of  the  scholar. 

The  home  where  the  tutors  repair, 
I'll  study  and  spend  my  last  dollar 
To  go  and  be  happy  there! 
Then  strike,  &c. 

"And  then,  whether  married  or  single, 
I  can  live  on  the  laurels  I've  won: 
I'll  walk  where  the  sages  commingle, 
And  talk  with  the  blue-stocking  ton. 
Then  strike,"  &c. 

till  suddenly  entered  three  muscular  coch- 
leaureates,  bearing  an  enormous  flat  wooden 
spoon  (whittled  out  of  a  clapboard),  and 
charged  upon  the  unlucky  Greek  letter  men, 
tumbling  Barkenhead  (who  was  quite  ready 
to  tumble  by  this  time)  over  upon  Sampson, 
and  Sampson  over  upon  Binney,  and  they  all 
went  down  like  a  row  of  bricks,  and  the 
curtain  fell. 

There  was  more  music  by  the  band,  and 
then  came  the  grand  Presentation,  when, 
with  much  flourish  of  amusing  oratory,  the 


S14  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

spoon  of  the  occasion  was  exhibited  to  the 
admiring  throng,  and  passed  from  the  hands 
of  the  president  of  the  committee  to  those 
of  its  happy  owner.  The  whole  audience 
sang  "  Gaudeamus  "_to  the  thunder  of  the  big 
hall  organ,  the  doors  let  out  the  smiling,  talk- 
ative crowd,  and  all  was  still.  Mere  descrip- 
tion gives  the  reader  but  little  idea  of  the 
brilliancy  and  attractions  of  the  old  annual 
Wooden  Spoon  night,  looked  for  and  enjoyed 
in  those  days  with  such  keen  pleasure  and 
relish.  The  dumb  picture,  without  the  spark- 
ling life,  is  all  that  can  be  transferred  to  the 
printed  page. 

It  was  late  when  Hardy  returned  to  his 
room  from  Park  Avenue.  Sitting  down,  tired 
and  drowsy,  his  eye  fell  on  the  ancestral 
relic  hung  on  his  wall,  and  the  words  of  one 
of  the  evening's  songs  "  beat  time  to  nothing 
in  his  head  "  :  — 

"In  my  dreams  thy  plated  stem  soft  glowing 
Shone  with  silver  flame; 


NICK  HELPS  THE   "  COCHLEAUREATI."      315 

Oft  I  marked  how  goblins  small  and  knowing 
Carved  thereon  my  name." 

He  smiled,  but  decided  to  adjourn  his 
dreaming  till  he  was  safe  in  bed.  But  by 
that  time  there  were  thoughts  beating  time 
to  something  in  his  head,  and  some  of  the 
anxieties  of  real  life  returned.  He  could 
carry  himself  along  now  in  his  studies,  and 
probably  through  his  college  course,  without 
incurring  debts;  but  it  had  been  his  fondl}7 
cherished  purpose  to  educate  his  sister  Jane. 
It  would  be  a  proud  day  for  him  when  he 
could  place  her  in  Park  Avenue  Seminary ; 
but  that  day  seemed  no  nearer  than  ever. 
Poor  Jennie  would  have  to  wait.  Meantime, 
"  poor  Jennie,"  teaching  school  at  small 
wages,  and  with  a  purpose  of  her  own,  wax 
waiting,  bravely  and  patiently. 


316  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A  MIDNIGHT    BATTLE,   AND    SOME     STRANGE     DE- 
VELOPMENTS. 

Some  rocks  of  gold  the  earthquakes  break; 

Sea-amber  comes  in  storms  ashore. 
Death's  lightning  aimed  at  human  wreck, 

May  flash  from  heaven  one  mercy  more. 

ANOH 

TTALE!     Hale!    Hale!" 

The  far,  well-known  cry  rang  out  on 
the  night  air,  mingled  with  the  soughing  of 
the  trees,  —  the  cry  always  raised  by  the 
students  in  any  sudden  broil  with  the  roughs 
of  the  city,  and  which  never  failed  to  bring 
"  all  college  "  to  their  aid.  "  Hale !  Hale  ! 
Hale !  "  Hardy  sprang  to  his  feet  and  lis- 
tened. He  had  a  front  Senior  room  in  North 


A   MIDNIGHT   BATTLE.  317 

College  now,  and  peering  from  his  window 
over  the  murky  and  dimly-lanterned  campus, 
he  could  catch  the  sounds  that  came  up  Meet- 
ing Street  and  across  the  Common.  There 
could  be  no  mistake :  it  was  the  old  uni- 
versity rally-cry.  There  was  trouble  outside. 
It  was  late  in  November,  and  Hardy,  after 
a  vacation  spent  in  lucrative  labor,  had  come 
to  the  duties  of  his  last  year,  and  been  for 
nearly  eleven  weeks  devoting  himself  to  his 
studies,  his  seminary  class,  and  —  his  sister. 
For,  discovering  that  she  had  saved  a  con- 
siderable sum  from  her  little  earnings,  he 
had  decided  (with  some  trembling)  to  take 
Jane  with  him  to  Ke'w  Harbor,  and  place 
her  in  Park  Avenue  School.  Signs  of  de- 
cided improvement  in  the  condition  and 
spirit  of  his  relatives  at  Fenwick  Falls,  on 
his  brief  summer  visit  there,  had  greatly 
pleased  and  cheered  him.  He  was  under- 
taking much ;  but  Providence  had  smiled 


318  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

upon  him  —  and  he  was  sitting  to-night  in 
his  room,  late  at  work,  but  with  a  heart  at 
peace.  The  sound  of  war  broke  in  upon 
him  rudely  and  strangely. 

"  Hale  !  Hale  !  Hale  !  "  louder  and  nearer 
it  came,  and  he  could  hear  voices  in  fierce 
altercation,  and  the  rush  and  surge  of  riot 
in  the  streets.  Tearing  off  his  study-gown, 
he  threw  on  his  coat  and  cap,  and  ran  down 
the  stairs.  Hundreds  of  feet  were  now 
tramping  through  the  halls,  and  forth  from 
all  the  entries  of  the  old  "  brick  row."  It 
was  past  eleven  o'clock,  but  all  college  was 
awake  and  astir.  Several  panting  Sopho- 
mores leaped  into  the  'campus,  coming  after 
their  revolvers. 

"What's  up,  fellows?" 

"  Townies." 

"  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  Firemen  —  row." 

And,  unable  to  gather  any  more  informa- 


A   MIDNIGHT   BATTLE.  319 

tion.  the  crowd  rushed  on.  But  every  one 
knew  now  pretty  well  what  the*  trouble 
was.  i  There  had  been  a  feud  gathering  for 
some  time  between  students  and  city  fiia- 
men.  Some  insult,  when  the  former  hap 
pened  to  be  passing  an  engine-house  singing 
college  songs,  had  provoked  it,  and  feelings 
of  extreme  irritation  existed  between  the 
parties. 

To-night  fifty  or  sixty  of  the  more  idle 
and  reckless  of  the  college  boys  (the  only 
sort,  by  the  way,  who  ever  got  into  serious 
difficulties  with  the  "  townies  ")  had  gone  to 
the  theatre  in  a  body.  They  had  some  fresh 
affront  to  avenge,  and  of  course  their  ap- 
pearance in  force  invited  hostility  from  the 
other  side.  The  firemen,  and  a  rabble  of 
roughs,  gathered  in  and  around  the  theatre, 
outnumbering  them  four  to  one.  The  man- 
ner of  the  town  boys  and  "  gown  boys  "  to- 
ward each  other  was  not  calculated  to  cool 


320  THE   WOODEN   SPOON. 

• 

bad  blood.  Circumstances,  place,  and  com- 
pany all  combined  to  precipitate  a  fight. 
The  captain  of  the  police,  learning  the  situ- 
ation, came  himself  to  the  spot  with  an  extra 
detail  of  men  to  try  and  keep  the  peace. 
By  his  advice  the  students,  when  the  play 
was  over,  waited  for  the .  clearing  of  the 
house,  and  then  marched  out  together,  two 
by  two,  the  officers  making  a  lane  for  them 
through  the  cursing,  threatening  throng. 
They  passed  up  the  sidewalk  along  Meeting 
Street,  headed  by  the  police  captain,  and 
followed  by  the  firemen  and  rowdies  jeering, 
hooting,  and  occasionally  throwing  stones. 
They  had  gone  more  than  half  way  to  the 
college  buildings,  keeping  their  rage  under 
discreet  restraint,  when,  passing  the  Grove 
Street  gate  of  the  town  common,  their  leader 
struck  up  "  Gaudeamus"  All  instantly 
joined  in,  rolling  forth  the  song  with  defiant 
voices,  ttud  timing  with  their  feet  as  they 


A   MIDNIGHT   BATTLE.  321 

marched.  This  exasperated  the  mob  to  fury, 
and  disregarding  the  police,  they  rushed 
upon  the  sidewalk  and  began  the  battle. 
Then  rose  the  college  rally-cry.  Savage 
blows  fell  thick  on  assailants  and  assailed, 
and  in  a  moment  the  street  was  a  babel 
of  angry  shouts  and  noises,  and  struggling 
of  maddened  men.  When  Hardy  and  t-ho 
crowd  of  collegians  with  him  reached  the 
scene,  the  battle  was  at  its  height,  and  the 
crack  of  pistol-shots  had  begun  to  give  a 
deadly  meaning  to  the  tumult.  "  Keep  back  1 
keep  back  !  "  cried  the  police  captain,  seeiinr 
them  hurrying  in  to  take  sides  with  f! 
assailed  students.  "Keep  back!  Fighting 
here  can  only  make  matters  worse.  Get  into 
the  college  buildings,  all  of  you,  as  soon  as 
you  can  ! "  and  he  and  his  men  made  frantic 
efforts  to  tear  the  combatants  apart.  Sud- 
denly two  of  the  church  -  bells  began  to 
ring  a  fire-alarm.  Some  desperadoes  had 
21 


322  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

broken  in  through  the  windows  and  got  at 
the  ropes.  The  rabble  in  the  street  rapidly 
increased  in  numbers  —  hundreds  upon  hun- 
dreds. More  policemen  arrived,  but  they 
were  all  too  few  to  put  the  rioters  down. 
By  this  time  several,  both  of  the  students 
and  the  townies,  were  hurt,  and  a  few  quite 
badly  (though  the  pistol-shots  had  mostly 
been  fired  into  the  air) ;  but  it  was  not  till 
the  yell  of  "man  Tolled  I"  broke  from  the 
heart  of  the  mob,  as  one  of  the  rioters  was 
seen  to  leap  from  the  sidewalk  and  lall  in  the 
street,  that  there  was  any  slacking  of  hos- 
tilities. Hardy  had  only  time  to  see  them 
take  up  the  supposed  dead  man,  and  to  no- 
tice how  singularly  like  Horace  Godwin  ons 
of  the  bearers  looked,  when  he  was  hurried 
away  by  a  policeman. 

The  exertions  of  the  captain  and  his  of- 
ficers had  secured  the  escape  of  the  students 
dunii£  the  momentary  lull  in  the  fight.  That 


A  MIDNIGHT   BATTLE.  323 

was  all  they  could  do.  The  rage  of  the 
firemen  and  their  confederates  burst  forth 
in  tenfold  violence.  Blood  had  been  shed 
by  .a  student,  and  their  cry  now  was  for 
"  revenge  !  "  They  rushed  in  pursuit  of  the 
college-boys,  but  these  had,  most  of  them, 
fled  into  "  Old  South/'  and  barricaded  the 
door.  Hardy  went  to  his  room  accompanied 
by  Calvin  and  Whately.  The  mob  raged 
and  cursed,  and  in  a  minute  the  word  went 
round  to  "  get  the  cannon,  and  batter  the 
college  down."  A  detachment  flew  to  the 
gun-house  of  the  artillery  company,  broke 
down  the  door,  seized  two  field-pieces  and 
loaded  them,  and  dragged  them  up  before 
South  College.  The  utmost  exertions  of  the 
policemen  could  only  prevent  them  from 
discharging  the  guns  at  once,  for  the  wild 
rabble  were  lost  to  reason  like  so  many 
beasts.  But  during  the  brief  delay  and  con- 
fusion  the  brave  officers  climbed  upon  the 


324  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

cannon  and  attempted  to  spike  them,  in  which 
they  partially  succeeded.  And  now  the 
mayor  of  the  citjr  arrived  at  the  scene  of 
the  disturbance,  and  standing  upon  one  of  the 
guns,  made  a  speech  to  the  rioters,  warning 
them  of  the  consequences  of  violence,  and 
promising  redress  where  any  had  been 
wrongod.  But  even  the  presence  and  words 
of  the  chief  magistrate  could  not  quell  the 
blind  fury  of  that  ignorant  mass  of  men.  It- 
remained  for  a  Power  higher  than  the  mayor 
to  send  a  stay  to  their  desperate  proceed- 
ings. A  sudden  fall  of  rain  struck  them 
while  fiercely  endeavoring  to  clear  the  vents 
of  the  guns,  and  growling  with  baffled  ha- 
tred, they  began  to  retire.  The  cannon  were 
seized  by  order  of  the  mayor  and  taken 
away,  the  police  arrested  some  of  the  ring- 
leaders of  the  riot ;  and  by  two  o'clock  the 
streets  were  clear.  And  here  we  leave  the 
great  emeute,  and  its  causes  and  the  blame 
of  it .  to  be  settled  by  the  courts. 


A   MIDNIGHT   BATTLE.  325 

Hardy,  who  had  left  his  room  again  during 
the  excitement  at  the  last  terrible  menace  of 
the  mob.  had  just  returned,  and  was  undress- 
ing to  snatch  a  forlorn  chance  of  sleep  from 
the  waning  hours  of  his  most  inquiet  col- 
lege night,  when  a  knock  on  his  door  startled 
him.  "  What  now,  at  two  o'clock  in  the 
morning?"  he  muttered  to  himself  in  no 
patient  mood.  His  visitor  was  Horace  God- 
win, the  marvellous  walking  polyglot  who 
had  so  astonished  him  on  the  evening  of 
Junior  Exhibition.  Hardy  had  no  wish  to 
see  him.  He  had  begun  to  think  of  Godwin 
as  destitute  of  character,  prodigy  though  he 
was  in  learning.  He  knew  he  had  lost  the 
place  which  his  efforts  had  procured  for  him. 
Without  character,  though  he  spoke  the 
tongues  of  angels,  Godwin  became  to  him 
a  mere  unaccountable  wizard  of  words.  His 
suspicion  that  he  had  seen  him  among  the 
rioters  did  not  prepossess  him  any  more  in  his 


326  THE   WOODEN  SPOON. 

favor.  A  man  who  kept  such  company  — 
But  Hardy  did  not  take  the  time  thinking  all 
this  that-I  take  in  telling  it.  All  reflections 
that  might  have  found  room  in  his  mind  at 
another  time  were  now  resolved  into  the 
single  wonder  what  in  the  world  Godwin 
wanted. 

"  I  believe  1  saw  you  some  two  hours  ago, 
Mr.  Godwin,"  he  said. 

"  If  you  mean  in  this  unfortunate  affair  of 
the  riot,  yes,"  replied  Godwin  with  perfect 
courtesy.  "  I  was  a  passer-by,  on  the  side- 
walk, when  the  students  came  out,  and  an 
astonished  witness  when  the  trouble  began. 
A  man  was  hurt,  and  I  gave  my  assistance.'' 

"  He  was  not  killed,  then."  said  Hardy, 
quickly. 

"  No.  But  I  must  hasten  to  my  errand. 
This  man  now  lies  in  the  hospital,  in  a  dying 
condition,  as  the  surgeons  fear.  The  stab 
was  a  deep  and  dangerous  one,  and  it  will 
be  a  wonder  if —  " 


A  MIDNIGHT  BATTLE.  327 

"  A  stab !  I  supposed  the  man  was  shot  I " 
cried  Hardy. 

"  No ;  a  sword-cane  stab,  clear  as  a  lancet- 
cut.  But  to  my  errand.  This  man  gave  his 
name  as  'Silas  Hardy/  and  knowing  you, 
and  prompted  perhaps  by  something  in  his 
appearance,  I  named  you  to  him,  when  he 
immediately  expressed  an  eager  wish  to  see 
you.  He  says  he  is  your  brother.  Tt  may  be 
all  a  mistake,  but  I  could  do  no  less  than 
curry  the  request  of  a  man  who  believes 
himself  to  be  dying.  Good  night,  sir." 

If  Hardy  had  been  called  upon  to  de- 
scribe the  revulsion  in  his  feelings  at  that 
moment,  he  would  have  needed  a  month  of 
recollection.  Half  stunned  with  surprise, 
and  shame,  and  fear,  and  wounded  affection, 
he  moved  mechanically  about,  and  before  he 
really  knew  what  he  was  doing  he  found 
himself  dressed  and  wrapped,  and  walking 
out  into  the  wet  and  windy  darkness.  No 


328  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

sleep  for  Nicholas  Hardy  that  night.  Would 
there  be  any  more  sleep  for  Silas  Hardy  till 
he  slept  the  sleep  that  knows  no  waking  ?  " 

Nicholas  reached  the  hospital  none  too 
soon.  Only  the  fact  that  the  wounded  man 
was  calling  for  him  procured  him  admission 
to  his  bedside.  Gazing  at  the  bearded, 
rough-looking  patient,  it  seemed  to  him  that 
(as  Godwin  hinted)  there  must  be  some  ab- 
surd mistake,  —  he  hoped  there  was.  '  He 
could  catch  no  resemblance,  nor  recognize 
a  single  feature  that  he  had  ever  known ; 
and  though  the  man's  hollow  eyes  rested  oil 
him  longingly,  he  heaved  a  deep  breath  of 
relief  as  he  persuaded  himself  that  none  of 
his  own  flesh  and  blood  lay  there.  Then, 
with  a  strange  gleam  of  intelligence  in  his 
face,  the  patient  put  out  his  hand.  Nicholas 
came  nearer,  and  leaned  over  him.  He  must 
Bay  sour.; tiling. 

"  Are  i/o<i  -my  brother  Silas  ?  " 


A   MIDNIGHT   BATTLE.  829 

The  man  slowly  turned  over  his  right  hand 
that  lay  in  Nicholas'  own,  and  pointed  with 
the  forefinger  of  his  left  to  a  long  scar  across 
the  knuckles.  It  was  the  mark  of  a  severe 
hurt  that  Silas  had  received  in  the  mill 
when  he  was  a  boy.  Nicholas  gazed,  and 
grew  sick  at  heart.  This,  then,  was  his 
lost  brother  !  —  restored  to  him  only  when 
stricken  with  death,  and  in  a  street  brawl, 
too !  How  could  be  prepare  him  for  his  end? 
Was  there  a  chaplain  at  the  hospital?  In 
sorrowful  haste,  he  tried  to  select  a  few  fit 
words,  bending  closer  to  the  pallid  face, 
where  his  eye  now  began  to  trace  some  of 
the  old  tokens.  But  the  signs  of  fatal  faint- 
ness  showed  him  that  it  was  too  late.  Poor 
Silas  made  a  convulsive  effort  to  speak,  but 
the  three  words  "Search  —  my — clothes," 
were  all  that  Nicholas  could  seize.  Medical 
aid  summoned  back  a  little  life  at  last,  but 
the  sufferer  a \voko  wild  and  incoherent. 


330  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

Nicholas  remained  till  sunrise.  It  was  as- 
tonishing, the  superintending  surgeon  said 
that  the  man  survived  so  long  such  fearful 
loss  of  blood.  A  search  of  Silas'  clothes  re- 
vealed the  mark  of  his  name,  a  little  money, 
a  hotel  check,  a  seven-barrelled  shouter,  and 
two  little  bags  of  gold-dust  sewed  inside  the 
lining  of  his  waistband.  There  were  other 
pocket-trifles,  but  more  suggestive  rum  val- 
uable. Taken  with  other  hints  babbled  in 
his  delirium,  they  confessed  to  a  manner  of 
life  of  which  no  man  could  be  proud.  At 
sunrise  the  patient  fell  into  a  slumber,  and 
when  Nicholas  inquired,  the  surgeon  told  him 
there  might  be  time  to  go  and  bring  his 
sister. 

The  heavy  tidings  startled  and  grieved 
Jane  more  than  it  had  himself.  The  riot  of 
the  previous  night  had  excited  Park  Avenue 
school,  as  all  the  rest  of  the  city,  and  many 
eager  question-;  were  asked;  but,  save  the 


A   MIDNIGHT   BATTLE.  331 

Principal  (whom  it  was  wisest  to  inform  "  in 
confidence  "  at  once),  none  learned  that  the 
"  man  killed  "  in  the  Meeting  Street  fray  was 
a  brother  of  Jane  and  Nicholas  Hardy. 
Their  standing  could  suggest  no  connection 
with  a  midnight  brawler  who  happened  to 
bear  their  family  name,  and  the  newspapers 
did  not  take  the  trouble  to  identify  his  visi- 
tors at  the  hospital. 

It  was  nine  o'clock  when  the  brother  and 
sister  stood  together  by  Silas'  bedside.  They 
found  him  alive,  and  rational,  though  ex- 
ceedingly weak ;  and  the  surgeon,  as  much 
surprised  as  they,  ventured  to  say  that  he 
had  "  some  hope  of  him."  "  With  an  un- 
impaired constitution,"  he  remarked  aside  to 
Nicholas,  with  a  meaning  look,  "  I  could 
freely  predict  now  that  so  young  and  natu- 
rally strong  a  man  would  pull  through." 

The  interview  was  necessarily  a  short 
one,  and  the  pitiont  could  not  be  allowed  to 


332  THE   WOODEN   SPOON. 

talk,  but  his  pleasure  at  meeting  Nicholas 
and  Jane,  and  knowing  that  they  were  both 
in  the  city,  and  that  he  would  be  in  a  man- 
ner under  their  care,  soothe^  iiim  in  his 
helplessness,  and  made  more  nearly  possible 
his  physical  recovery  —  and  his  moral  re- 
covery, too. 

As  the  brother  and  sister  were  leaving  the 
hospital  they  were  met  by  the  aged  clergy- 
man whom  Nicholas  first  saw  at  the  "  Fair- 
hope  Quarterly."  He  was  not  a  regular  hos- 
pital chaplain,  but  he  made  frequent  visits  to 
this  and  similar  places,  carrying  words  of 
holy  counsel  and  consolation,  and  everywhere- 
welcomed  as  a  man  of  God.  Nicholas  greeted 
him  warmly,  introduced  his  sister,  and  imme- 
diately explained  their  errand,  and  confided 
to  him  their  unhappy  brother's  case.  Both 
they  and  Silas  had  reason  for  thanksgivings, 
afterwards,  to  the  kind  destiny  which  brought 
this  reverend  man  and  the  sick  prodigal  to- 
gether. 


A   MIDNIGHT   BATTLE.  333 

Christmas  came,  and  New  Year's  -—  and 
Silas  Hardy  not  only  lived,  but  took  nourish- 
ment, and  was  able  to' sit  up  in  bed,  and  read 
a  little,  and  talk.  During  all  the  tedious 
weeks,  while  his  soul  and  body  clung  to- 
gether by  a  thread,  Jane  and  Nicholas  tended 
him  alternately,  every  hour  of  their  time 
out  of  study,  watching  with  him  by  night 
when  he  was  at  the  worst,  and  lightening  his 
weary  and  remorseful  convalescence  with 
many  ministries  of  love  and .  hope.  His 
mother,  who  was  early  sent  for,  had  been 
to  see  him,  and  also  two  of  his  sisters,  from 
Fenwick  Falls ;  but  staying  in  New  Harbor 
would  be  expensive  for  them,  and  when  the 
promise  of  Silas'  recovery  seemed  fair,  they 
were  content  to  be 'assured  that  Nicholas  and 
Jane  could  sufficiently  care  and  provide  for 

• 

him. 

.By  degrees,  as  he  was  able,  the  returned 
wanderer  told  the  story  of  his  life  during  his 


THE  WOODEN   SPOON. 

long  absence,  and  as  his  heart  opened  and 
softened  to  kind  attentions  and  purifying  in- 
fluences, he  confessed  his  many  wrecks,  and 
owned  his  humiliation  at  leaving  his  youth 
behind  him,  a  wasted  opportunity.  For  two 
years  he  had  followed  the  sea,  and  then,  in- 
fatuated with  ideas  of  sudden  wealth,  went 
to  the  Nevada  gulches  to  hunt  for  gold.  But 
the  daily  contact  with  drunkards  and  game- 
sters developed  his  worst  instincts,  and  all 
the  gold  he  gathered  he  lost  in  dissipation 
and  play.  He  hired  himself  out  as  a  ma- 
chinist at  high  wages,  and  could  have 
made  himself  rich,  but  au  insane  faith  in 
luck  tempted  him  to  the  faro  banks,  till  his 
money  was  gambled  away  as  fast  as  he  made 
it.  He  would  not  write  to  his  friends  and 
kin  till  he  could  astonish  them  with  tidings 
of  his  great  fortune,  and  waiting  for  this  he 
had  never  written  at  all.  He  had  his  fits  of 
compunction  aud  self-disgust,  when  he  could 


A  MIDNIGHT  BATTLE.  335 

flee  clearly  how  deeply  his  habits  of  drink- 
ing and  gaming  debased  him,  and  how  they 
kept  him  from  getting  on  in  the  world ;  and 
repeatedly  he  had  sworn  to  mend,  but  the 
return  of  opportunity  and  temptation  only 
proved  his  weakness  the  same.  At  last,  re- 
solving to  flee  the  country  and  begin  a  wan- 
dering life  again,  he  had  accumulated  a  little 
gold  by  running  a  quartz-mill  at  the  mines, 
and  managing  to  keep  this,  made  his  way  to 
the  coast,  where  he  shipped  as  a  common 
sailor.  Landing  in  New  York,  he  had  wasted 
his  ship-money  in  a  week  of  fast  living,  and 
then  recklessly  embarked  on  a  boat,  going 
he  neither  knew  nor  cared  where.  He  had 
found  himself  in  New  Harbor  with  next  to 
nothing  left  besides  the  two  little  bags  of 
dust  stitched  in  his  clothing.  His  night  at 
the  theatre  with  a  gang  of  new  drinking-com- 
panions  had  ended  well-nigh  in  sending  him 
to  a  deathbed. 


336  THE   WOODEN   SPOON. 

"See  me  here,"  he  said  sadly,  "a  wreck  at 
twenty-seven  !  Ah,  Nick,  it  was  always  with 
you  and  I  as  with  '  Seth  and  Tim,'  in  the 
'  Loafer's  Lament '  in  the  old  reading-book : 

'  Seth,  night  and  day,  drank  knowledge  in, 
And  stored  his  mind  from  near  and  far, 
While  I  —  learned  how  to  guzzle  gin, 
And  how  to  pick  a  good  cigar.' 

And  this  is  what  it  has  brought  me  to. 
Many  a  time  I  have  undertaken  to  reform, 
and  started  with  a  desperate  burst  of  virtue, 
but  I  came  out  worse  than  ever,  every  time. 
This  last  blow  has  brought  me  where  I  know 
my  soundings.  It's  either  kill  or  cure  now.'' 
"God  grant  the  cure!''  said  Nicholas. 

I  have  carried  my  hero  through  several 
surprises —  astonishments,  in  fact  —  since  his 
college  life  began ;  but  they  were  all  short 
m}rsteries,  soon  explained.  I  am  going  to 
relate  a  mystery  now,  for  which  there  is  no 


A  MIDNIGHT   BATTLE.  337 

explanation — at  present.  Returning  from 
the  hospital  New  Year's  evening,  Nicholas 
stopped  at  the  post-office  and  took  out  a  letter 
directed  to  him  in  an  unknown  hand,  con- 
taining a  check,  to  his  order,  for  five  hundred 
dollars !  Nick  was  non-plussed  now,  utterly 
and  hopelessly.  The  check  was  drawn  ou  a 
New  York  bank,  and  signed  with  a  namo  he 
had  never  heard  of.  Was  it  a  sell  on  him? 
Was  it  a  forgery,  or  a  trick  to  implicate  him 
in  one?  Was  it  meant  for  Silas  instead  of 
himself,  and  sent  there  by  some  "  honorable  '' 
rascal  of  his  acquaintance  to  pay  an  old  gam- 
bling debt?  Was  it  a  downright,  bona  ficlo 
New  Year's  present  from  some  friend  who 
had  taken  a  round-about  way  to  hide  his 
tracks?  And  then  he  fell  to  work  to  think 
up  all  his  probable  and  possible  friends.  He 
went  that  very  evening  to  see  Miss  Tabitha 
Magraw  ;  but  she  laughed,  congratulated  him, 
and  disclaimed  all  knowledge  of  it.  Next 
22 


338  THE   WOODEN  SPOON. 

day  ho  found  out  that  there  was  such  a  bank 
as  the  one  named  on  the  check,  and  then  he 
hunted  up  the  only  bank  in  the  city  that  had 
business  with  it  (the  old  u  Tradesmen's  "), 
and  the  cashier  told  him  the  check  was  a 
genuine  one.  So  it  was  not  a  "sell."  He 
carried  the  check  to  Silas,  but  Silas  knew 
nothing  about  it.  "Keep  it,  Nick,'1  he  said. 
"  Jack's  '  cherub  that  sits  up  aloft,'  sent  it  to 
pay  you  for  taking  care  of  me." 

He  directed  a  letter  to  "Paul  Jellaby," 
the  signer,  and  "  Paul  Jellaby  "  wrote  back, 
kindly  stating  who  he  was,  but  adding,  pro- 
vokingly,  "  Beyond  this  I  can  give  you  no 
information.  I  received  orders  and  for- 
warded the  check  accordingly."  Of  course 
that  ended  all  question  of  a  "forgery." 

Nick  wrote  to  Squire  Gammel  next,  but 
the  squire  could  give  him  no  hint.  Then 
lie  wrote  to  Dr.  Pliny  Norcross.  The  old 
doct..r  frankly  confessed  his  ignorance  of 


A  MIDNIGHT  BATTLE.  339 

the  whole  thing,  and  only  suggested,  in  his 
peculiar  way,  "  Didn't  I  tell  you  that  old 
wooden  spoon  would  bring  you  luck  ?  " 

Nick  did  not  know  where  to  make  any 
more  inquiries,  and  he  gave  it  up.  This 
was  the  way,  then,  that-  he  was  to  have 
solved  for  him  the  problem  of  his  sister's 
education  and  his  own,  and  of  his  new  re- 
sponsibility with  his  ne'er-do-well  brother ! 
But  somehow  he  did  not  like  to  use  that 
check ;  it  felt  in  his  fingers  like  goblin- 
money.  He  would  rather  know  whom  he 
was  beholden  to.  He  deposited  the  five 
hundred  dollars  in  the  Tradesmen's  Bank, 
and  concluded  to  let  it  alone. 


340  THE   WOODEN    SPOON. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

IN  WHICH   NICK  STRAIGHTENS   OUT  THINGS. 

"And  you  may  make,  by  means  like  these, 
Five  talents  ten  whene'er  you  please." 

T"">ESIDES  his  relatives  and  the  excellent 
old  chaplain,  Silas  Hardy  had  but  one 
other  visitor  while  he  lay  in  the  hospital,  and 
that  one  only  occasionally.  The  "  pot-com; 
panions ''  of  his  theatre  night  had  kept  shy 
of  him  since  he  got  into  trouble,  but  Horace 
Godwin  seemed  to  have  conceived  a  friend- 
ship for  the  wounded  young  sailor.  This 
was,  perhaps,  owing  chiefly  to  the  fact  that 

during  his  wanderings  Silas  had  picked  up 

• 

Spanish  enough  to  be  able  to  converse  with 
him  in  that  tougue,  and  had  once  stopped 
a  short  time  in  England,  Godwin's  native 


NICK  STEAIGHTENS   OUT   THINGS.  341 

country.  Nicholas,  with  his  present  ideas 
of  what  Godwin  was,  suspecting  rather  a 
sympathy  of  appetites  and  habits,  was  at 
first  inclined  to  think  that,  for  two  such  men 
to  be  together,  even  "  occasionally  "  was  too 
often.  He  kept  his  misgivings  to  himself, 
howerer ;  and  he  was  less  disposed  to  com- 
plain when  he  saw  that  Godwin  amused  and 
entertained  his  brother,  for  the  man's  won- 
derful information,  and  versatility,  and  con- 
versational gift,  made  him  charming  company 
for  any  who  cared  to  listen  more  than  talk. 
Still,  knowing  his  brother's  weakness,  he 
disliked  to  see  him  brought  at  all  under 
the  influence  of  one  superior  to  himself, 
whose  free  and  somewhat  "  bohemian "  no- 
tions of  life  rendered  him  so  unsafe  a  friend. 
That  the  Englishman  had  shown  his  brother 
humane  attention  in  the  hour  of  his  injury 
might  be  used  as  a  privilege  and  give  him 
greater  personal  claim  and  power.  He 


342  THE   WOODEN    SPOON. 

dreaded  to  think  of  Silas  going  forth  into  the 
city,  sound  and  well  again,  and  being  met 
and  greeted  by  Godwin  with  an  invitation  to 
drink  a  glass  of  wine.  It  would  be  better 
for  Silas  to  die  as  he  was,  than  to  be  thus 
enticed  and  unmanned  again  when  his  bettei 
nature  had  begun  to  triumph.  Everything 
depended,  for  some  time  to  come,  on  the 
influences  he  would  follow,  and  the  company 
he  would  keep^  Once  more  tempted  astray 
and  given  to  evil,  his  moral  renewal  (so  it 
seemed  to  Nicholas)  would  be  beyond  hope. 
Poor  Silas  would  go  down  lower  than  ever, 

"  Chained  to  excess,  the  slave  of  each  extreme," 

till  overtaken  by  the  inevitable  ruin. 

Horace  Godwin  was  not  a  drunkard ;  but 
his  principles  were  not  of  the  kind  to 
strengthen  and  save  weak  Silas  Hardy. 

This  uneasiness  continued  to  disturb  Nich- 
olas as  ol't en  as  the  singular  man  visited  his 


NICK  STRAIGHTENS   OUT  THINGS.  343 

brother  and  stayed  to  talk  with  him;  and 
whenever  they  spoke  in  Spanish,  he  felt  the 
more  uncomfortable  because  he  could  not 
take  part  in  the  conversation,  nor  understand 
anything  that  was  said.  Under  other  cir- 
cumstances he  would  have  smiled  at  his  own 
jealousy.  But  his  feeling-  now  was  something 
deeper  than  the  mere  selfish  wish  to  have  his 
brother  all  to  himself.  He  had  set  his  heart 
on  saving  his  brother,  and  his  sensitive 
watchfulness  could  neither  be  wondered  at 
nor  blamed.  What  could  he  do  with  God- 
win? Could  he  hope  to  change  hip  princi- 
ples? Could  he  find  him  occupation  again 
and  gain  a  hold  upon  him  by  a  new  claim 
of  gratitude?  Could  he  by  any  means  get 
him  out  of  the  city  ?  Or  should  he  get 
his  brother  out  of  the  city,  and  out  of  his 
way?  He  finally  thought  of  Dr.  Norcross, 
and,  thougn  with  no  very  clearly  defined  idea 
of  what  he  expected  to  accomplish,  he  wrote 


344  THE    WOODEN    SPOON. 

the  old  physician  a  letter,  saying,  il  I've 
got  a  man  here  whom  you  would  like  to 
talk  with,  a  prodigy  of  ancient  learning," 
<fec.,  &c.  And  following  this  was  an  account, 
in  some  detail,  of  Godwin's  marvellous  ac- 
complishments, his  nationality,  his  academic 
parentage,  and  his  precarious  life  in  this 
country  as  a  "scholar  of  fortune." 

The  time  came  when  Silas  Hardy  must 
leave  the  hospital  and  be  provided  for 
elsewhere.  "  It  has  been  a  snug  harbor  to 
me  here.  Keep  a  look-out  for  my  poor  craft 
when  I  am  outside,"  he  said  to  the  chaplain 
the  day  before  his  discharge. 

"  That  I  shall,"  replied  the  good  old  man, 
"  but  don't  forget  to  keep  your  own  look-out, 
my  son.  There'll  be  pirates  afloat,  and  I 
hope  you'll  give  them  a  wide  berth;  but  you 
can't  always  expect  fair  weather  and  a 
smooth  sea. 


NICK   STRAIGHTENS   OUT   THINGS.  345 

'  .  .  .  "When  the  wave  and  the  gale 
Are  around  and  above,  if  your  footing  should  fail, 
If  your  eye  should  grow  dim,  and  your  caution  depart, 
Look  aloft,  and  be  firm  and  be  fearless  of  heart." " 

{i  I'll  promise  it !  A  thousand  thanks  for 
your  friendship  !  "  exclaimed  Silas  with  much 
feeling,  grasping  the  chaplain's  hand. 

With  considerable  pains  Nicholas  had  made 
an  arrangement  by  which  his  brother  and 
sister  could  take  lodgings,  at  moderate  ex- 
pense, in  a  locality  where  Jane  could  still 
reach  her  daily  recitations,  and  not  be  too 
wearied  after  the  little  necessary  "  household 
cares."  Boarding  themselves  in  this  way, 
she  and  Silas  could  help  each  other,  and  the 
saving  made  by  Jane's  withdrawal  from  her 
more  costly  quarters  at  the  school  would 
nearly  pay  their  rent.  She  was  healthy  and 
strong,  and  being  no  stranger  to  hard  work, 
she  did  not  mind  the  extra  exertion,  es- 
pecially when  she  thought  of  the  good  it 


346  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

would  do,  for  she  was  quite  as  heartily  in- 
terested as  Nicholas  in  providing  for  the 
restored  brother's  safety.  Of  course  the  little 
that  Silas  had  with  him  was  made  available 
in  money,  and  this  was  sufficient  to  support 
him  for  a  few  weeks  till  he  should  be  able 
to  earn  something  again. 

"•If  you  can't  get  along  without  me,"  said 
Nicholas  gayly,  when  they  were  nicely 
settled,  "  I'll  come  and  board  here  myself." 

And  in  the  meantime  he  charged  himself 
so  far  with  the  care  of  Silas'  future,  as  to 
watch  and  inquire  for  openings,  and  make 
every  effort  to  procure  him  a  situation. 

Silas  Hardy  was  a  changed  man.  The 
entirely  new  life  to  which  he  had  been  intro- 
duced, and  the  charm  of  a  home  attraction  — 

• 

which  till  now  he  had  never  really  known  — 
seemed  to  wean  him  completely  from  his  wild 
longings  and  his  vicious  tastes.  His  good 
resolutions,  to--,  wore  stronger  and  deeper 
than  his  benefactors  knc;\v. 


NICK  STRAIGHTENS   OUT   THINGS.  347 

"  This  is  more  heaven  on  earth  than  a 
vagabond  deserves,"  he  said  to  Jane,  sur- 
veying the  pretty  fitting-up  she  had  given 
to  their  little  rooms.  "  I  went  into  the  hos- 
pital to  die,  but  I  am  a  live  man  yet,  —  no 
small  thanks  to  Nick  and  you  !  If  ever  a 
fellow  had  a  real  resurrection  in  this  world, 
it's  I,  Jennie.  I  am  an  ungrateful  dog  if 
it  doesn't  prove  my  double  resurrection." 

Nicholas  brought  him  books,  and  he  spent 
most  of  his  days  of  gaining  health  in  reading. 
This  was  a  genuine  novefty  of  enjoyment 
to  him,  and  at  first  he  was  like  a  delighted 
boy  over  it.  So  the  rest  of  winter  passed, 
and  half  the  spring.  Then  his  brother  began 
to  take  walks  with  him,  and  several  times  in 
Nick's  college-room  he  met  the  latter's  two 
favorite  classmates,  Matt  Calvin  and  Bart 
Whately.  They  were  greatly  pleased  with 
him,  for,  besides  being  a  handsome  man, 
reformed  in  appearance  and  dress  as  well 


348  THE   WOODEN   SPOON. 

as  in  habits,  his  knowledge  of  the  world,  and 
his  exhaustless  store  of  anecdotes  and  per- 
sonal adventures,  made  him  very  enter- 
taining. That  he  was  the  man  stricken  down 
by  the  student's  dagger-blow,  in  the  street- 
riot  the  previous  fall,  they  never  guessed. 
At  length,  when  he  felt  his  health  and 
vigor  almost  complete,  Silas  began  to  chafe. 
He  was  not  one  who  ceuld  long  endure 
the  confinement  of  a  student's  life  ;  his  mus- 
cular energy  craved  fuller  play.  It  became 
useless  to  try  to  occupy  his  mind  with 
reading,  or  poring  over  his  Spanish.  Even 
whittling  curious  ornaments  of  furniture  for 
his"  sister's  room  ceased  to  divert  him.  That 
might  do  for  a  sick  man,  but  he  was  no  longer 
a  sick  man.  So  one  day  he  put  on  his  sailor 
clothes,  and  went  off  to  the  wharves  on 
an  exploring  tour.  Jane  was  somewhat  con- 
cerned not  to  see  him  home  at  dinner,  and 
in  the  afternoon,  when  Nicholas  came  to  his 


NICK   STRAIGHTENS   OUT   THINGS.  349 

seminary  class,  she  inquired  if  he  knew  where 
he  was.  Nicholas  had  talked  with  Silas 
about  obtaining  work,  but  nothing  definite 
had  been  fixed  upon,  and  he  had  not  dis- 
covered how  impatient  his  brother  was. 
He  told  Jane  that  he  had  probably  gone 
after  employment,  and  he  believed  he  would 
come  home  all  right,  but  he  thought  he 
should  have  notified  her.  At  nightfall  he 
went  to  Jane's  lodgings,  not  without  a  slight 
feeling  of  uneasiness;  but  very  soon  after 
his  arrival  Silas  came  home.  He  was  pretty 
tired,  and  there  were  sooty  traces  on  his 
hands  and  face,  notwithstanding  an  evident 
attempt  to  wash  himself.  The  look  his 
brother  and  sister  gave  him  as  he  entered 
brought  out  a  smile  which  ran  over  in  a 
quiet  laugh  at  some  remark  of  Jane.  He 
had  been  down  among  the  stevedores  un- 
loading coal !  He  retired  long  enough  to 
give  himself  a  thorough  scrubbing  and 


350  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

change  his  dress,  and  then  re-entering,  he 
threw  himself,  with  a  long  sigh,  into  an  easy- 
chair  by  the  supper-table. 

"  Why,  how  fatigued  you  look  1 "  said 
both  Nicholas  and  Jane. 

"  Fatigued  and  happy.  I've  found  some- 
thing to  do,"  replied  Silas. 

Nicholas  made  a  simple  inquiry,  and 
learned  that  his  brother  had  arranged  to 
be  permanently  employed  at  the  wharves. 
He  did  not  betray  his  dissatisfaction  at  this 
news,  but  talked  it  over  quietly  with  him 
while  he  ate  his  supper,  and  by  the  time 
he  had  finished,  and  lain  down  on  the  lounge, 
it  did  not  need  much  logic  to  make  him  own 
that  he  was  still  entirely  unfit  for  the  hard 
labor  he  had  been  doing  that  day.  But 
Nicholas  had  more  to  say.  To  discuss  the 
company  his  brother  should  keep  required 
some  diplomacy.  Wheeling  the  easy-chair 
to  the  side  of  the  lounge,  he  seated  him- 


NICK  STRAIGHTENS  OUT  THINGS.  351 

self  in  it,  and  elevated  his  feet  quite  com- 
fortably upon  a  camp-stool,  as  if  he  intended 
to  spend  the  evening  in  hearing  and  telling 
stories. 

"  You  ought  to  rest  three  weeks  yet,"  said 
he.  And  with  that  and  similar  sympathetic 
remarks  by  way  of  preamble,  like  a  skilful 
lawyer  he  laid  out  his  ground,  Jane  putting 
in  an  occasional  word  from  where  she  sat 
with  comb  and  brush,  coaxing  the  last  dust 
out  of  Silas'  hair  and  beard.  He  led  the 
conversation  over  the  past,  recalling  inci- 
dents both  sad  and  glad,  in  what  seemed 
a  most  desultory  way,  but  drawing  from  his 
brother  the  very  expressions  he  wished  to 
hear,  till  they  naturally  came  to  talk  of  his 
sudden  appearance  in  New  Harbor  and  the 
strange  providence  of  their  meeting,  of  the 
long  waiting  between  life  and  death,  the  debt 
of  his  happy  recovery,  the  resolutions  of  his 
sick  and  suffering  hours,  and  the  better 


352  THE   WOODEN    SPOON. 

reason  that  these  should  be  kept  than  that 
they  should  ever  have  been  made.  Silas 
spoke  freely  and  earuestly,  and  sometimes 
Nicholas  gave  him  the  largest  share  of  the 
dialogue.  They  talked  of  their  friend  the 
venerable  clergyman,  and  reviewed  all  they 
knew  of  the  good  and  the  bad  in  Horace 
Godwin,  accounting  with  perfect  agreement 
for  his  waste  of  his  splendid  possibilities,  and 
echoing  each  other's  thought  that  a  single 
careless  weakness  could  ruin  a  life  and  make 
an  angel  fall.  An  ingenious  suggestion  from 
Nicholas  turned  the  point  and  made  the 
application  personal  again,  and  unconscious 
of  condemning  his  own  late  choice,  Silas 
admitted  that  the  safety  of  his  heart  de- 
pended largely  on  where  he  put  his  head. 

"Just  so,"  said  Nicholas.  "A  head  with 
the  tiger's  scar  on  it  is  too  wise  to  go  into  the 
lion's  mouth,  I  should  think." 

"  But,"  <aid   Silas,  a  little  nettled  to  find 


NICK   STRAIGHTENS   OUT   THINGS  353 

how  he  had  been  argued  up  to  a  confession 
of  his  foolishness,  "  I  can't  be  idle ;  I'd  rather 
die  than  —  " 

"  You  said,  just  now,  you  had  better  have 
died  than  to  run  any  more  risks,"  interrupted 
Nicholas. 

"  Well,  have  it  your  way.  I  suppose  I'm 
caught,"  said  Silas. 

"  Idleness  is  bad  enough,  goodness  knows," 
continued  Dick,  "  but,  for  a  new-reformed 
man,  between  idleness  and  work  in  bad  com- 
pany, it's  a  choice  between  the  devil  and  the 
deep  sea.  Some  of  those  Manson  Wharf 
stevedores  were  concerned  in  the  Novem- 
ber riot.  I  wonder  you  weren't  recognized 
down  there." 

"  I  was.  How  in  the  world  did  you  guess 
that?  "  exclaimed  Silas,  laughing. 

"I    didn't    guess,"   said    Nick,    "but    it's 
natural   to   suppose    that  when   a  man 
to  Turkey  he'll  find  Turks." 
23 


354  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

"  There  were  two  of  them  that  knew  me," 
continued  Silas,  "  and  at  noon-lunch  they 
insisted  on  treating  me  to  whiskey ;  but  I 
neither  drank,  nor  felt  an  inclination  to  drink 
with  them.  But  you  are  right,  Nick  1  I 
acknowledge  I  felt  ashamed  of  my  company, 
and  a  burnt  brand  should  keep  away  from  the 
fire.  I'll  quit  wharf- work,  and  wait  for  some- 
thing to  turn  up." 

"  Something  lias  turned  up,"  laughed  Nich- 
olas. 

And  then  he  went  on,  with  perhaps  more 
proud  pleasure  than  he  had  ever  felt  before 
in  his  -life,  to  tell  him  his  plan.  How  different 
this  (he  thought  as  he  glanced  at  his  listening 
brother's  face)  from  the  Silas  of  four  months 
ago  1  of  four  years,  six  years — yes,  ten  years 
agol  That  very  day  Nicholas  had  learned 
of  an  excellent  situation  which  would  be 
open  the  10th  of  May  (three  weeks  later), 
in  a  large  machine-shop.  *  The  proprietor  to 


NICK  STRAIGHTENS  OUT  THINGS.  355 

whose  favor,  as  the  husband  of  one  of  the 
ladies  of  her  Fair-hope  Band,  "  the  countess  " 
Magraw  had  paved  the  way  for  her  student 
friend,  was  a  prominent  manufacturer  of  the 
city,  a  gentleman  of  high  character,  who 
employed  in  his  business  none  but  "  tem- 
perance men."  Nicholas  proposed  that  his 
brother  should  see  Mr.  Lego  the  next  day, 
secure  the  place,  and  then  spend  the  inter- 
vening time,  or  a  part  of  it,  in  a  visit  at 
Fenwick  Falls.  "  "We  three  can  make  up 
a  purse  for  that  trip,  and  not  break  us,"  he 
said  pleasantly. 

Silas  was  too  grateful  to  offer  any  objection 
to  this.  He  lay  thinking,  while  the  delighted 
Jane,  still  smoothing  his  hair,  conversed 
about  the  plan  in' low  tones  with  her  younger 
brother.  The  city  clocks  struck  nine,  and 
Nicholas  went  out  softly,  leaving  Silas  asleep. 

Horace  Godwin  had  not  appeared  to  our 


356  THE   WOODEN  SPOON. 

friends  for  more  than  two  months,  and 
Nicholas  began  to  think  of  the  "  absurd 
letter "  (as  he  chose  to  call  it)  which  he 
had  written  to  Dr.  Norcross.  Was  it  possible 
that  any  notice  had  been  taken  of  it  ?  His 
doubts  were  set  at  rest  when  one  day,  just 
after  Silas  had  left  the  city  for  Fenwick  Falls, 
he  received  a  long  letter  from  the  old  doctor 
full  of  amusing  and  extravagant  happiness. 

"Your  friend  Godwin  is  an  Admirable 
Crichton,  a  Mezzofauti,  a  second  Dr.  Parr, 
a  masculine  Scheherazade,  an  incarnate 
Arabian  Night,  a  whole  classical  library 
in  trousers ! "  so  the  old  man  ran  on. 
..."  I  have  got  him  a  place  in  the  High- 
town  Academy  —  a  chartered  institution  now, 
by  the  way,  (been  growing  ever  since  you 
gave  it  a  start,)  with  an  upper  and  lower 
grade,  and  three  teachers.  Godwin  is  As- 
sistant in  Languages  (that's  what  they  call 
it) ;  but  don't  he  make  the  Principal  and  Pre- 


NICK  STRAIGHTENS    OUT   THINGS.  357 

ceptress  stare  !  He  can  make  grammar  for 
himself  if  the  book  comes  short,  and  he  can 
beat  Virgil  on  his  own  Latin  !  .  .  .  He  has 
been  here  six  weeks,  and  I've  been  pumping 
him  all  that  time,  but,  land  o'  Homer  !  he's 
a  living  spring,  and  as  fresh  to-day  as  ever  ! 
.  .  .  Godwin  boards  with  me,  and  we  sit  up 
all  night,  sometimes,  talking  and  disputing 
on  the  ^Eolic  Digamma,  and  the  verbs  in  Mi. 
.  .  .  How  in  wonder  did  this  magician  hap- 
pen to  come  to  you,  you  young  Aladdin? 
1  shall  lay  it  to  the  luck  of  the  Wooden 
Spoon  !  You  must  have  rubbed  that  old 
bowl  one  day,  and  called  the  fellow  up," 

&C.,  &C.j  &C. 

Nick  read  the  letter  through,  and  laid  it 
down,  laughing  heartily.  Then  he  com- 
mented, growing  half  serious. 

"  It  is  fortunate  that  I  got  that  strange  be- 
ing out  of  the  city  so  soon.  Such  a  fearfully 
gifted  genie  might  have  laid  a  spell  on  Silas." 


358  THE   WOODEN   SPOON. 

However  well-founded  Nick's  misgivings 
of  danger  to  his  brother  from  Godwin's  in- 
fluence may  have  been,  it  is  certain  (as  he 
afterwards  knew)  that  there  was  but  one 
secret  understanding  between  the  two  men. 
Horace  Godwin  was  a  witness  to  the  stabbing 
of  the  sailor  Silas  Hardy,  on  the  night  of  the 
riot.  Welcomed  for  his  fascinating  abilities 
and  marvellous  learning  to  the  company  of 
college  boys,  and  to  the  convivialities  of  a 
certain  set,  he  had  become  acquainted  with 
many  of  them,  and  he  knew  the  one  who 
gave  the  dagger-thrust.  Probably  he  was 
the  only  man  outside  of  college  who  knew. 
It  was  of  this  knowledge,  and  the  possible 
use  of  it,  that  he  and  Silas  were  speaking 
when  they  conversed  together  in  Spanish. 
It  was  agreed  by  them  that  nothing  should  be 
said.  And  so,  when  the  legal  investigation 
of  the  matter  was  made,  not  a  witness  could 
be  found.  It  was  not  till  after  the  author 


NICK  STEAIGHTENS   OUT   THINGS.  359 

of  the  deed  had  left  college  (without  his 
diploma)  and  was  a  thousand  miles  away, 
that  Silas  told  his  brother  in  confidence  the 
name  of  the  Southern  student,  one  of  Nick's 
own  class,  who,  "  in  self- defence,"  had  so 
nearly  made  an  end  of  him. 

The  Hardys  at  Feriwick  Falls  gave  their 
wanderer  a  genuine,  homespun  greeting 
when  he  came  among  them  again,  and  when 
he  saw  how  honestly  glad  they  were,  he 
realized  that  it  was  better  to  return  humble 
than  to  return  rich.  But  what  a  change 
since  he  went  away !  Sue  and  Phoebe 
matrons  with  children  of  their  own ;  Annette 
married ;  Sally,  the  careless  romp,  grown 
to  a  trim  and  tidy  young  woman,  and  already 
"  spoken "  to  a  certain  farmer's  son  with 
prospects;  the  boy  Jerry  a  foot  taller,  and 
fledged  into  a  fine  beau  j  father  and  mother 
good-humored,  portly,  and  comfortable ;  the 


360  THE   WOODEN    SPOON. 

house  neat,  and  painted,  and  peaceable,  with 
a  clean  garden  and  a  new  fence  !  It  seemed 
to  Silas  as  if  every  one  of  the  family,  and 
every  thing  in  and  around  the  old  dwelling, 
had  somehow  ripened  out  of  ragged  and 
reckless  childhood  since  he  saw  them  last. 
Where  had  all  the  wrinkled  worry,  and  noisy 
bickering  and  snarling  gone?  He  was 
pleased,  too,  to  hear  how  every  one  quoted 
brother  Nick.  It  was  "  Nick  didn't "  or 
"  wouldn't  like  this,"  or  "  Nick  thought  we 
had  better  do  that/'  or  "  Nick  advised  us 
to  have  such-and-such,'*'  or  "  Nick  wants 
it  to  be  so-and-so,"  or  "  Nick  says,"  or 
"  Nick  knows,"  or  "  Nick  will/'  or  "  Nick 
can;"  and  evidently  brother  Nick  was  the 
oracle  of  the  family. 

Saul  Hardy,  looking  with  pride  on  his 
handsome  sou  Silas,  and  listening  to  him  with 
wonder  while  he  smoked  his  pipe,  broke  out 
once,  in  spite  of  himself,  and  told  how  it  was. 


NICK  STEAIGHTENS   OUT   THINGS.   ,        361 

"  Wife,  here's  some  more  o'  Nick's  work  !  " 
"  Nick's   and   Jane's,"  said  Silas,  knowing 
that  his  father  meant  him,  and  that  he  knew 
what  he  had  been. 

"  Yes ;  and  Jane  is  his  work,  too,  pretty 
much  —  only  in  a  different  way.  Used  to 
call  him  the  scamp  o'  the  whole  brood,  but  I'll 
be  hanged  if  he  ain't  the  missionary,  and  we 
needed  one." 


"  What  say  you  to  a  holiday  sail .? "  asked 
Matt  Calvin  of  Nicholas  one  beautiful  day  in 
early  May,  soon  after  Silas  returned  from 
his  visit. 

"  Just  the  thing,"  replied  Nicholas,  "  if 
we  can  get  the  right  kind  of  a  party.  Bart 
will  go,  won't  he  1 " 

"  No ;  he's  shut  up,  working  out  prize 
problems  —  the  old  dig  !  " 

"  Well,  I've  worked  all  winter  on  my  prize 
problems,"  laughed  Nicholas,  "  and  I  deserve 


362  THE   WOODEN    SPOON. 

a  day  out.  So  little  recreation  as  I've  given 
myself  for  the  last  five  months,  a  snatch 
of  sport  will  be  a  godsend." 

"  You're  right,  Prince  Hal,"  quoth  Cajvin 
ever  ready  with  his  Shakspeare. 

'If  all  the  year  were  playing  holidays, 
To  play  would  be  as  tedious  as  to  work; 
"But  now,  what  seldom  comes  unlocked  for  conies, 
And  nothing  pleaseth  but  rare  accidents!'" 

And  so,  to  make  a  long  story  short,  a 
sailing  party  was  made  up  for  that  after- 
noon, consisting  of  Calvin,  Nicholas,  his 
brother  Silas,  his  sister  Jane,  and  two  of 
her  intimate  friends  from  the  seminary,  one 
of  which  was  Miss  Nellie  Lincoln.  They 
took  fishing-tackle  with  them,  and  a  plain 
bread  lunch  and  some  simple  culinary  con- 
veniences, intending  to  land  at  Salton  Rock 
and  fry  fish.  Silas  managed  the  boat,  and 
in  his  skilful  hands  it  went  down  the  harbor 
like  a  sea-bird.  Jane,  with  Calvin's  help, 


NICK  STRAIGHTENS  OUT   THINGS.  363 

succeeded  in  hauling  in  a  splendid  blue-fish, 
for  which  exploit  she  was  extravagantly 
applauded.  But  luck  was  rather  coquettish 
to  the  rest,  and  when  waiting  for  bites 
became  too  slow  sport,  the  party  sailed  gayly 
round  to  Salton  Rock,  and  went  ashore  for 
their  little  picnic. 

They  made  a  merry  dinner,  and  then  so 
fast  consumed  their  sociable  but  uneventful 
time,  clambering,  running,  picking  lichens, 
and  hunting  for  hepaticas  in  the  grove,  that 
when  Silas  called  them  together  again  they 
could  hardly  believe  it  was  time  to  go. 

"There's  going  to  be  a  fog,"  said  he, 
"otherwise  we  could  stay  for  the  moon- 
shine." 

They  all  went  down  to  the  landing,  Nicho- 
las watching  his  brother's  face.  Before  they 
embarked  he  whispered  to  him,  If  there's 
any  risk  we'd  better  go  home  on  the  cars/' 
glancing  at  the  ladies.  But  Silas  thought 


364  THE    WOODEN    SPOON. 

there  was  no  danger  if  they  got  off  at  once ; 
and  very  soon  the  party  were  in  the  boat 
and  at  sea  again,  Nicholas  at  the  tiller,  Silas 
holding  the  boom- guy,  and  Calvin  and  the 
girls  stowed  amidships. 

"  Hard-a-lee  ! "  shouted  Silas  to  Nick. 

"  Hardy  lee ! "  laughed  Calvin  and  the 
girls,  and  away  they  went,  pinging : 

"Where  Pollux  sails  and  Castor  steers, 
We'll  fly  and  float  a  hundred  years." 

The  homeward  sailing  was  not  so  swift 
and  easy,  for  they  worked  to  windward, 
luffing  and  tacking  all  the  way  back  to  the 
harbor  mouth ;  but  they  got  along  bravely, 
singing  college-songs  (which  the  ladies  knew 
perfectly  well),  or  shouting  with  laughter  at 
Calvin's  jokes,  till  the  fog  began  to  thicken. 
Rapidly,  alarmingly,  all  over  sea  and  shore 
gathered  the  mantling  mist,  and  the  day  grew 
dark,  for  the  sun  was  almost  down.  They 


NICK   STRAIGHTENS   OUT   THINGS.  365 

rounded  the  headland,  and  Silas  was  getting 
his  last  bearings  to  run  in,  when  the  wind 
suddenly  seemed  to  shift,  almost  jibing  the 
sail  in  spite  of  him,  and  then  it  died  away 
entirely.  There  was  a  scream  from  one  of 
the  ladies.  The  jaw-rope  had  caught  her 
back-hair.  Calvin,  incautiously  jumping  up, 
had  his  hat  knocked  off  by  the  boom.  At 
that  moment  a  roaring  sound  to  seaward 
turned  every  head  abaft,  and  they  saw 
glaring  through  the  fog  the  headlight  of 
a  great  steamboat !  It  was  bearing  directly 
down  upon  them,  and  they  could  not  get 
out  of  the  way  ! 

"  She  don't  see  us  1 "  cried  Silas.  "  We 
must  raise  a  fire  somehow  I  " 

There  was  a  hurried  search  for  paper,  but 
not  a  piece  could  be  found.  Despair  sat 
on  every  face.  The  steamer  would  certainly 
sink  them. 

"  Give  me  a  match,  quick  I "  shrieked  Nellie 


366  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

Lincoln,  at  the  same  instant  snapping  a  cord 
in  some  mysterious  part  of  her  dress.  The 
great  steamer  came  thundering  on  —  almost 
upon  them  !  Silas,  Calvin,  and  Nick  yelled 
"  ahoy  !  ahoy  1 "  at  the  top  of  their  voices, 
but  just  then  a  bright  blaze  shot  up  from 
the  little  boat,  and  they  heard  the  clang 
of  the  steamer-pilot's  bell.  The  engine  was 
reversed,  the  great  wheels  backed  water, 
but  the  momentum  carried  the  black  bows 

almost  over  the  little  sailboat  where  Nellie 

• 

stood  on  one  of  the  thwarts  waving  her 
blazing  torch  in  the  face  of  death.  They 
were  saved. 

When  all  danger  was  past,  and  they 
were  out  of  the  way  of  larger  craft,  working 
up  to  the  regatta- wharf  with  a  hatful  of  wind, 
the  reaction  from  fear  to  joy  awakened  the 
silenced  voices  of  the  fair  passengers,  and 
they  broke  into  half  hysterical  screams  of 
laughter.  The  idea  of  a  lady's  bustle 


NICK  STRAIGHTENS  OUT  THINGS  367 

stopping  a  steamboat !  Was  there  ever  any- 
thing so  droll? 

"...  What  seldom  comes  unlooked-for  comes, 
And  nothing  pleaseth  but  rare  accidents," 

said  Nicholas,  quoting  back  to  Calvin.  "  You 
are  a  brave  girl,  Nellie,"  he  added  aside  to 
the  heroine  of  the  moment,  "  you  are  good 
for  both  storm  and  calm." 

The  rest  of  the  party  heard  it,  and  would 
have  given  three  cheers,  but  Nellie  told 
them  to  stop  their  noise. 


368  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

IN  SIGHT   OP  THE  LAST  MILE-STONE. 

"Fast  flew  the  weeks  :  on  golden  wheels  of  ease, 
By  classic  turnpike,  through  Pierian  trees, 
The  lazy  Seniors  rode  to  their  degrees." 

PHIS  interesting  tristicb  appeared  one 
evening  in  the  "  Nipper,"  a  saucy  semi- 
occasional  sheet,  through  the  medium  of 
whose  columns  the  unterrified  democracy  of 
the  college  got  their  opinions  and  observa- 
tions into  print.  Now  that  the  premonitory 
thunders  of  campaign  time  had  begun  to 
rumble  again,  it  came  out  every  week.  The 
next  issue  contained  the  same,  and  three 
lines  more  printed  under  them. 

"With  logic  spread  to  cheat  the  college-guards, 
In  sanctum,  or  upon  the  grassy  yards, 
The  Juniors  wrote  lore-letters,  and  played  cards." 


IN  SIGHT   OP  THE  LAST   MILE-STONE.      369 

This  was  presumably  a  return  shot,  and 
as  it  left  the  parties  pretty  even,  the  thing 
was  not  personal  enough  to  go  farther.  But 
the  next  week's  issue  suggested  that  some 
sore  Freshman  had  been  aching  for  a  good 
opportunity  to  hit  off  his  old  "hazing"  en- 
emies. 

"  In  horrid  club-den,  and  by  college-door, 
Singing  old  didos,  or  debating  more, 
The  window-breaking  Sophomores  smoked  and  swore." 

And  promptly,  under  a  reprint  of  this  trip- 
let, came  out,  the  following  week : 

"Tortured  by  these  in  Learning's  noble  cause, 
The  Freshmen  chased  the  bell  with  books  in  paws, 
Or  hid  themselves,  and  crammed  the  college  laws." 

This  sort  of  caricature,  good-naturedly  taken 
by  one  college  class  from  another,  becomes 
a  slander  when  repeated,  as  it  too  often  is, 
for  a  true  description  of  student  life  and 
character  at  our  universities.  The  career 
24 


370  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

of  Nicholas  Hardy,  who  certainly  was  not  a 
"  lazy "  Senior,  nor  a  shirking  Junior,  nor 
a  wicked  Sophomore,  nor  a  foolish  Freshman, 
is  by  no  means  an  exception.  So  far  from 
being  an  uncommon  student,  his  likes  and 
equals  are  much  more  numerous  than  his 
unlikes  and  inferiors.  The  exceptions  are 
those  few  whose  want  of  principle  and  self- 
respect  unfits  them  to  be  in  college,  or 
anywhere  else  save  in  a  penitentiary.  Such 
are  generally  weeded  out  of  their  class 
before  graduation,  if  not  before  Senior  year. 
There  are  Home  who  fall  out  by  inability  to 
keep  pace  with  their  fellows  in  scholarship, 
some  who  shorten  or  cripple  their  course 
by  sentimental  entanglements ;  some  who  in- 
cur discipline  through  sheer  thoughtlessness, 
or  boyish  excess  of  fun ;  many  who  take  no 
"  honors " ;  but  the  cynical  critic  must  find 
worse  representatives  than  these  to  justify 
his  judgment  that  the  average  college  student 


IN  BIGHT  OF  THE  LAST  MILE- STONE.      371 

is  a  scamp.  The  example  of  Nicholas  Hardy 
is  set  before  boys  and  young  men  who  are 
looking  forward  to  a  liberal  course  of  study, 
with  the  assurance  that  in  college  they  can 
imitate  his  manliness,  his  pure-mindedness 
and  honest  purpose,  and  even  his  struggles 
with  indigence  and  discouraging  home  con- 
nections, and  find  plenty  of  good  company. 
And  from  this  I  go  on  again  with  my  hero's 
story. 

Nicholas  counted  it  his  best  Senior  triumph 
to  be  the  winner  of  one  of  the  five  Hamilton 
prizes.  These  were  bestowed  for  distin- 
guished excellence,  not  in  the  occult  sci- 
ences, not  in  Latin  or  Greek,  but  in  the 
English  language,  the  mother-tongue  of  eighty 
living  millions,  in  -which  our  future  lawyer 
expected  to  do  his  life-work  and  win  his 
influence  and  reputation  among  men.  -He 
had  the  more  reason  to  be  proud  of  this 
triumph  because  he  had  been  obliged  to 


372  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

finish  his  prize  treatise  with  the  trouble  of 
his  brother  on  his  mind,  and  the  care  of  him 
on  his  hands ;  and  to  accomplish  it  all  with 
out  lowering  his  scholarly  standing  was  no 
ordinary  victory.  He  had  worked  hard  — 
fatiguingly,  exhaustingly  hard,  — but  it  paid. 
To  be  a  Hamilton  prize-man  was  to  carry 
a  kind  of  high  official  indorsement  to  his 
practical  talents,  and  to  his  general  culture 
as  well ;  for  all  his  classic  and  scientific  drill 
had  contributed  to,  and  showed  itself  in,  the 
style  and  richness  of  the  language  which 
was  to  be  his  instrument  of  usefulness  and 
power.  Possessing  this,  he  could  be  content 
to  let  others  bear  away  the  medal  for  Elo- 
quence, the  Resident  Scholarships,  the  Astro- 
nomical premiums,  and  the  class  honors  of 
Editor,  Orator,  Poet,  and  Historian.  Of  the 
class  historian  and  his  duties  I  shall  haye 
more  to  say  before  this  chapter  ends. 


m   SIGHT   OF   THE   LAST   MILE-STONE.      373 

"  Did  you  ever  find  out  who  sent  you 
that  five  hundred  dollar  check?"  asked  Silas 
of  his  brother  shortly  after  his  return  from 
home.  He  had  begun  work  in  Mr.  Lego's 
machine-shop,  but  still  boarded  with  his  sis- 
ter, and  Nicholas  was  at  their  lodgings,  on 
one  of  his  frequent  calls. 

"  No,"  said  Nicholas.  "  Why,  have  you 
learned  anything  new?" 

He  had  long  half  mistrusted  that  Miss 
Tabitha  Magraw  had  some  intelligence,  or  at 
least  some  theory  about  that  singular  matter, 
beyond  what  she  chose  to  disclose.  He 
could  not  forget  her  tilling  him  that  she 
had  "  written  to  the  Hanfords,"  and  that  she 
had  found  papers  in  the  old  cabinet  which 
mo  one  but  herself  should  see. 

"  While  I  was  at  home,"  said  Silas,  "  I  met 
and  talked  with  a  man  who  said  his  name 
was  Gaines." 

"  I  know  Mr.  Gaines,"  said  Nicholas 


374  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

• 
"  Yes  ;  he  said  he  knew  you,  and  that  yon 

saved  his  boy's  life." 

"  And  he  sent  me  a  hundred  dollars," 
said  Nicholas,  beginning  to  think  rapidly. 
Was  it  possible  here  was  a  clue  to  this 
last  mystery? 

"  He  didn't  represent  it  in  just  that  way," 
said  Silas.  "  He  was  a  poor  man  then,  only 
an  overseer,  but  he  went  to  the  mill-own- 
ers about  it,  he  said,*  and  they  made  up  a 
purse.  There  was  one  of  them  that  he  called 
Mulford,  I  believe,  who  gave  more  than  any 
one  else.  [Nicholas'  thoughts  travelled  from 
Fenwick  to  Colebridge  in  a  twinkling.].  He 
said  he  wished  it  had  been  Jive  hundred 
instead  of  one  hundred ;  and  then  it  came 
handy  to  tell  him  there'd  been  a  check  sent 
you  for  just  that  sum.  I  looked  at  him 
eharp,  and  I  thought  he  appeared  a  good 

•  See  "Nick  Hardy,"  p.  281. 


IN  SIGHT  OP   THE  LAST  MILE-STONE.      375 

deal  more  pleased  than  surprised.  '  I  wish 
it  had  been  a  thousand,  says  he.  Gaines 
is  superintendent  now,  and  I  guess  he's 
rich." 

But  Nicholas'  mind  was  on  a  very  different 
track  from  the  one  Silas  had  struck.  Mr. 
Gaines  was  not  rich.  If  he  had  been,  doubt- 
less he  would  gladly  have  sent  his  young 
benefactor  five  hundred  dollars,  —  or  a  thou- 
sand dollars,  —  and  in  a  less  roundabout  way 
than  through  a  real-estate  broker  in  New 
York.  Some  eccentric  hand  had  managed 
that  affair.  Nicholas  had  no  personal  knowl- 
edge of  Mr.  Mulford  beyond  the  short  and 
curious  acquaintance  on  the  boat  between 
Femnouth  and  Nohannic,  but  he  had  jumped 
to  ths  conclusion  at  once  that  this  gentle- 
man and  Mulford  the  mill-owner  were  one 
and  the  same.  He  did  not  know  (what  was 
the  fact)  that  Mr.  Mulford  knew  who  he 
was  when  he  intrusted  him  with  the  money 


376  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

and  letter  to  Colebridge.  He  did  not  know 
that  he  was  entirely  at  fault  in  thinking 
that  the  mysterious  check  might  be  Mr.  Mul- 
ford's  gift  at  all.  Of  course  he  could  not 
know  that  it  came  from  the  last  man  in  the 
world  whom  he  had  any  reason  to  suppose 
cared  for  him  or  owed  him  good  will.  He  had 
built  an  hypothesis,  but  it  was  a  good  deal 
like  the  cosmogony  that  rested  the  globe  on 
an  elephant  that  stood  on  a  turtle  that  stood 
on  nothing.  And  the  old  "  countess/'  whom 
he  saw  a  few  days  after,  only  perplexed  him 
more  by  suggesting  that  the  check  was  con- 
science-money from  some  wrongful  possessor 
of  an  inheritance  that  ought  to  have  been  his 
(Hardy's),  dating  back  before  the  Gartney 
will  was  written.  But  she  promised  to  make 
inquiries,  and  help  him  satisfy  his  curiosity. 

An   unimportant   incident  of  this  last  call 
at  Miss  Tabitha's  was  a  discovery  of  wedding 


IN   SIGHT   OF   THE   LAST   MILE-STONE.      377 

preparations  going  on.  Nicholas  Lad  scarcely 
"  seen  Sidney "  for  nearly  a  year  ;  nor  had 
the  old  question  been  asked  him  by  Sidney's 
mother ;  for  the  Helpmeats  had  dissolved, 
with  the  kindest  feelings  towards  Mrs.  Hin- 
nipick,  and,  with  some  changes  in  the  mem- 
bership, had  organized  a  co-operative  board- 
ing association,  called  the  "  Eta  Pi  Club," 
of  which  Nicholas  was  steward.  So  that 
both  he  and  they  had  quite  forgotten  to 
charge  themselves  with  Sidney's  movements 
and  localities,  or  to  make  fun  of  his  love 

• 

affairs.  Nicholas  had  no  doubt,  however,  that 
Margaret  Granger  was  now  about  to  make 
the  young  man  a  happy  benedict;  and  he 
would  not  have  thought  of  the  matter  again 
but  for  the  merry  flutter  he  found  the  Semi- 
nary girls  in,  one  day,  over  a  "  beautiful  ser- 
enade "  that  they,  or  some  one  of  them  in 
particular,  had  been  honored  with  the  night 
before.  There  were  five  of  the  tuneful  youths 


378  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

who  had  come  to  the  gate,  and  they  sung, 
0,  so  splendidly  !  and  it  was  such  a  treat ! 
But  there  was  one  who  stepped  inside  the 
yard,  and  played  the  guitar,  and  sung  a 
song,  and  it  was  so  exquisitely  sweet !  and 
some  of  the  words  were  — 

"The  gloom  that  winter  cast 

How  soon  the  heart  forgets 
When  summer  brings  at  last 

Her  sun  that  never  sets ! 
So  dawned  my  love  for  you; 

So  fixed  through  joy  and  pain, 
Than  summer  sun  mor^  true : 

Twill  never  set  again." 

And  then  the  rest  sung  in  chorus  with  him ; 
and  the  quartette  had  such  lovely  voices 
too  !  And  the  young  man  stood  there  sing- 
ing and  playing  as  much  as  a  quarter  of  an 
hour ;  and  he  had  long  hair,  and  the  moon 
shone  down  on  his  elegant  little  boot ;  and 
some  of  the  girls  knew  him,  and  said  it  was 
Mr.  Sidney  Hinnipick,  the  organist  at  St. 


IN  SIGHT   OF  THE  LAST   MILE-STONE.      379 

John's,  and  one  girl  threw  him  a  bouquet  out 
of  her  window  ;  and  they  knew  it  was  Emma 
Crosby,  and  he  was  engaged  to  her,  or  going 
to  be  :  and  it  was  all  too  dearly,  delightfully 
romantic  for  anything! 

Nicholas  was  vastly  amused  with  this 
pretty  nonsense  ;  but  he  kept  his  own  knowl- 
edge of  the  gallant  guitar-player  to  himself. 
So  Sidney  was  off  with  the  old  love,  and 
on  with  the  new  1  Probably  Miss  Margaret 
had  found  out  her  mistake.  Perhaps  they 
both  had.  If  he  had  "  seen  Sidney  "  as  often 
ati  in  the  old  days,  he  might  have  known 
by  his  looks  that  Miss  Margaret  "found  out 
h^r  mistake  "  eight  months  ago,  and  that  a 
certain  young  merchant  from  Colebridge  had 
h&Jped  her  find  it  out. 

When  Senior  "  Biennial "  was  over,  and 
Presentation-Day  came,  Nicholas  Hardy  began 
for  the  firot  time  to  realize  that  his  student 
life,  and  all  its  countless  associations  so  dear 


380  THE   WOODEN    SPOON. 

to  him,  had  almost  ended.  The  old-fashioned 
ceremony  of  the  reading,  in  Latin,  from  the 
chapel-pulpit  stairs,  by  the  senior  tutor,  the 
names  of  all  the  young  men  who  were 
"through/'  and  the  delivery  of  the  class 
oration  and  poem,  took  place  in  the  forenoon. 
The  afternoon  was  the  Seniors'  farewell  fes- 
tal, when  they  gathered  as  "  college  boys  "  for 
the  last  time.  At  two  o'clock  the  clas*,  en- 
tirely insensible  as  yet  of  their  dignity  as 
newly  "presented  "  bachelors, began  to  spread 
themselves  on  the  grass,  under  the  elms  of 
the  old  Campus.  In  the  centre  of  their  ring 
stood  a  tub  of  iced  lemonade,  and  every 
man  held  in  his  hand  the  traditional  long 
white  clay  pipe,  the  calumet  token  of  pres- 
ent and  everlasting  friendship.  At  the  end, 
placed  to  front  the  whole  class,  stood  a  table 
for  the  speakers,  and  convenient  benches  and 
stand  for  the  class  band,  who  both  played 
instruments  and  led  the  singing  of  the  songs. 


IN  SIGHT   OP   THE  LAST   MILE-STONE.      381 

Crowds  of  undergraduates  lounged  outside 
the  ring  to  listen,  and  all  the  front  windows 
of  Ionic  Hall  and  old  South  Central  were 
full  of  fair  maiden  faces,  —  Jane  Hardy's 
and  Nellie  Lincoln's  among  the  rest. 

The  "  Class  History "  was  the  piece  de 
resistance  of  the  feast,  and  for  class  histo- 
rian who  could  equal  Matt  Calvin  ?  His  task 
was  to  rake  over  in  running  pleasantry  each 
fellow's  record,  and  dismiss  him  wish  some 
witty  benediction,  and  to  present  "  statistics" 
of  the  class  divisions,  with  just  enough  fact 
in  them  to  make  their  errors  doubly  laugha- 
ble. Every  droll  division-room  blunder,  every 
absurd  accident,  every  joke  or  rare  "  load," 
or  ridiculous  surprise  or  funny  fix,  or  excru- 
ciating "  sell,"  that  had  stuck  to  a  man, 
and  had  surnamed  him  perhaps  through  four 
years  of  memory,  Matt  worked  in  with  his 
inimitable  ingenuity  among  the  victim's  "  per- 
sonal facts,"  and  gave  him  a  send-off  that 


382  THE  WOODEN   SPOON. 

provoked  a  continual  tumult  of  laughter.  Of 
course  Proc  —  the  indomitable  Proc — came 
in  for  a  large  share  of  the  comical  celebrity. 
His  adventures  and  mishaps  had  been  mani- 
fold, and  the  exploit  of  "  ponying "  himself 

* 
from   the   saloon-window   was   only   4  single 

specimen.  Matt  shaped  them  all  into  his 
"  history,"  and  reeled  them  off  amid  peals 
of  deafening  mirth.  Proc,  the  good-humored, 
happy-go-easy  fellow,  whom  nobody  could  be 
vexed  with,  not  even  the  Faculty,  seemed 
to  be  constitutionally  disqualified  for  study. 
The  effect  on  his  recitations  was  a  rule  with- 
out an  exception,  till  one  day  there  was  a 
new  sensation  in  his  division-room,  and  a 
sly  cartoon  slid  about  among  the  shaking 
students,  with  him  perched  on  a  pyramid  of 
furniture,  under  the  President's  hammer,  ex- 
plaining itself  as  "the  chair-i-table  raising 
of  Proc's  stand"  and  bearing  a  quotation 
from  Byron's  Lara,  — 


IN  SIGHT  OP  THE  LAST  MILE-STONE.       383 

"He  heard,  he  rose,  and,  tremulously  bitive, 
Rushed  —  " 

After  fizzling  and  flunking  his  way  through 
three  years  and  a  half,  Proc  had  made  one 
"  rush  1 "  and  if  it  suited  Calvin  to  dramatize 
that  "  rush,"  and  make  it  the  one  accident 
that  saved  his  stand,  he  liked  the  joke  as  well 
as  anybody.  He  was  not  sensitive  about  his 
scholarship,  and  he  could  not  help  furnishing 
fun,  and  making  people  happy,  if  he  tried. 

A  perfect  tempest  of  cheers,  and  calls,  and 
roaring  ha-ha's  greeted  the  conclusion  of  his 
"  biography,"  and  the  screams  of  "  Speech ! 
speech  1 "  "  Speech  from  Proc  ! "  would  have 
lifted  any  other  man  to  his  feet  and  put 
him  on  the  table.  But  Proc  only  sat  still 
and  laughed  with  the  rest.  He  never  made 
speeches,  and  his  classmates  knew  it.  He 
was  a  man  of  action;  and  he  continued  to 
be  one  in  after  years  —  a  good  and  noble 
one. 


384  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

It  was  expected  that  the  historian  in  his 
hits  on  "  present  company "  would  confine 
himself  entirely  to  the  jocose,  and  say  noth- 
ing that  would  sting ;  and  in  the  rare  art 
of  doing  this  Calvin's  skill  and  delicacy  were 
perfect;  and,  though  Proc  did  not  respond, 
many  of  the  class  came  up  to  the  call,  after 
Matt  had  "  done "  them,  and  indorsed  his 
queer  account  with  pleasantries  as  happy  as 
his  own.  But  of  the  dropped  members  (who 
on  presentation-day  "  turned  up  missing ") 
he  could  speak  with  less  constraint ;  and  over 
some  of  these  the  sport  was  immense.  Every 
grotesque  recollection  of  them,  —  their  freaks, 
foibles,  oddities,  and  scrapes,  and  the  whim- 
sical things  they  said  or  did,  —  everything 
but  their  vices  (for  these  were  not  matter 
for  fun)  Matt  made  the  most  of,  in  prose  or 
verse,  as  the  humor  served,  and  the  convul- 
sive merriment  they  created,  as  he  told  them 
over,  made  even  the  outsiders  laugh,  who 


IN   SIGHT   OF   THE   LAST   MILE-STONE.      385 

saw  no  point  to  the  story  at  all.  There  was 
Hugo  Webb,  who  never  could  get  the  Greek 
quantities,  and  always  went  by  the  name  of 
"  Thuck-a-dides  " ;  and  Jim  Milton,  known  as 
"  Qui  Fit,"  from  his  experiment  with  "  qui 
Jit  Meccenas"  one  day  at  recitation,  and  who 
left  college  to  go  to  Rome  (Calvin  said)  and 
find  out  "  who  made  Mecaenas  "  (the  transla- 
tion by  which  he  had  immortalized  himself ) ; 
and  there  was  Pete  Newell,  famous  for  his 
Homeric  epithets,  who  got  lost  on  a  "  long- 
shadowing  "  logarithm,  and  went  off  in  an 
"  ungodspeakable  storm  ;  "  and  there  was  Bob 
Falconer,  who  fooled  away  his  time  in  love- 
making  with  a  soft  city  damsel  ("par  nobile 
turtle-dove-orum  "), 

"till  his  brain  turned  stupid 
And  migrated  from  common  sense  to  Cupid," 

and    who  actually    married    between  Junior 
and   Senior  year,  and   came   back   and  kept 
25 


386  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

still  about  it,  till  the  Faculty  found  it  out, 
when  — 

"...  came  the  last  of  college  that  should  rex 
Poor  Borneo's  soul.    A  summons  from  the  Prex ; 
A  half-hour's  homily,  such  as  judges  read 
To  criminals  condemned  to  hang ;  a  deed 
Of  dissolution  signed,  a  bow,  a  doff 
Of  hats,  and  Alma  Mater  swung  him  off, 
Minus  excuse,  diploma,  or  dismission, 
To  proper  matrimonial  perdition." 

But  my  unacquainted  reader  cannot  be  sup- 
posed to  take  the  force  of  these  descriptions, 
or  feel  the  aptness  of  allusions  and  reminis- 
cences so  entirely  limited  and  local.  To  a 
stranger  the  very  best  jokes  of  a  "  class-his- 
tory "  are  as  unmusical  as  a  stringless  fiddle ; 
and  I  have  reported  Calvin's  performance  only 
far  enough  to  hint  again  at  the  exceptions  I 
mentioned  early  in  the  chapter,  —  the  sort 
of  students  who  compose  the  small  minority 
of  an  American  college  community,  and  gen- 
erally leave  their  class  for  their  class's  good. 


IN  SIGHT   OP   THE   LAST  MILE-STONE.      387 

Only  in  rare  instances  does  the  funny  histo- 
rian tell  the  real  reason  of  a  sorry  fellow's 
disappearance,  the  rule  being  to  charitably 
cover  his  going  under  some  unlucky  ab- 
surdity. 

Songs,  music,  and  refreshments  interspersed 
the  reading  and  speaking,  and  then  (after  the 
ceremony  of  trampling  on  the  pipes)  the 
class-  marched  in  procession  to  salute  the 
President  and  Professors  at  their  homes  or 
rooms,  returned  to  give  three  cheers  before 
each  of  the  old  college  buildings  that  stood 
identified  with  their  life  and  labor  there,  and 
passed  to  Minerva  Hall,  to  plant  their  class 
ivy,  and  sing  Hardy's  "  Ivy  Song."  Its  words 
are  still  heard  in  the  old  college,  at  class 
farewells  when  retiring  Seniors  chant  to 
"  Auld  lang  syne,"  - — 

"  Tis  holy  here !    How  deep  and  dear 
Resounds  the  long  good-bye! 


888  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

We  ne'er  shall  shed  a  sweeter  tear, 
Nor  heave  a  purer  sigh. 


All,  all  are  past:  and  soon  the  last 

Will  fade  from  book  and  brain. 
O,  give  and  take,  for  Memory's  sake, 

The  parting  hand  again ! " 

When  the  ivy  rite  was  finished  they  formed 
the  "  parting  ring,"  and  as  they  passed  each 
by  each,  shaking  mutual  hands,  Nicholas 
Hardy  was  not  the  only  Senior  who  shed 
manly  tears.  This  was  not  absolutely  the 
last  of  student  life  and  joy,  for  Commence- 
ment was  yet  to  come,  but  as  an  unbroken 
class,  for  college  exercises,  they  would  meet 
no  more. 


THE  BROKEN  SPOON  MENDED.      389 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

IN  WHICH  THE   BROKEN  SPOON  IS  FINALLY 
MENDED. 

Brief  time  he  lingered  'mid  those  quiet  shades, 
His  quiet  shade  no  longer.    Youths  and  maids 
Went  laughing  by,  as  wont;  the  thrilling  song 
Of  undergraduate  glee,  that  oft  and  long 
He'd  sung  and  loved,  from  other  voices  rose 
Up  the  old  entries;  other  champions  chose 
His  place  upon  the  furlong ;  others'  toil 
Pursued  his  ended  tasks,  where  fresher  oil 
Befilled  his  faded  lamp,  and  younger  forms 
-  Came  to  his  quitted  chair;  and  all  that  warms 
And  glads  the  student's  heart  did  round  him  swim 
In  life  of  later  season — not  for  him.  —  ANON. 


/~*  OING    to    sea,   I    fancy,"    said    Calvin, 
entering    Hardy's   room,    and    finding 
him  bustling  about  with  his  navy  shirt  on.      % 


390  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

"  Yes,  going  to  see  what  I  can  see.  If  my 
eyes  don't  go  to  salt  water,  salt  water  will 
come  to  my  eyes.  It's  like  a  funeral  here 
since  class-day." 

"You're  right,  Nick,"  said  Bart  Whately, 
coming  in  at  the  moment.  "  I'm  going  to 
Salton  Rock  myself,  to  lie  off  a  week." 

"  You  fellows  are  melancholy,"  laughed 
Calvin. 

"Ah,  Matt  —  Matt's  got  an  attraction  here. 
He  don't  want  to  go  away,"  quoth  Whately, 
turning  the  laugh  on  him.  Matt  had  an 
"  attraction  ;  "  and  having  finished  his  studies, 
he  was  perfectly  at  liberty  to  attend  to  it. 
"Finished  your  commencement  piece,  Nick?" 
he  said,  after  vainly  inquiring  for  a  "  tub  of 
soap"  to  put  his  head  in. 

"  Yes,  and  committed.  I'll  be  back  in  time 
for  rehearsals,"  replied  Hardy,  cramming 
Borne  articles  of  clothing  into  his  valise. 

"  Come  on  !  "  shouted  Barkenhead,  appear 


THE  BBOKEN  SPOON  MENDED^  391 

ing  suddenly  at  the  door  in  a  navy  shirt  like 
the  one  Nick  wore.  "  Faunce  says  we  oust 
get  off  in  an  hour,  and  we'll  have  to  order 
down  that  barrel  of  hard-tack.  Say,  aren't 
you  going  to  take  the  old  sea-serpent  along  ? 
Some  Junior '11  break  in  and  hook  it  while 
you're  gone." 

"  Plague  o'  the  wooden  spoon !  Take 
yours"  muttered  Hardy.  But  he  unhung  the 
old  relic  from  the  wall,  and  carefully  placed 
it  inside  his  dressing-case,  and,  with  hasty 
good-byes  to  his  friends,  the  next  minute  he 
was  striding  away  with  Barkenhead  in  the 
direction  of  the  college  navy  boat-house. 

Whately  and  Calvin  seldom  rowed,  but 
Hardy  was  fond  of  the  exercise,  and  his 
leisure  to  enjoy  it  had  been  far  less  than  he 
would  have  liked.  He  had  made  an  arrange- 
ment, on  rather  short  notice,  with  seven  other 
members  of  his  boat-club,  for  a  trip  round  the 
coast  and  up  the  Kinnebassit  Kiver,  to  camp 


392  THE   WOODEN   SPOON. 

out  a  few  days,  and  fish,  and  ramble,  and 
"lie  off."  He  had  a  little  money  saved,  for 
bis  stewardship  in  the  "  Eta  Pi's,"  which  gave 
him  his  board,  had  lightened  his  yearly  bills 
by  at  least  a  hundred  and  seventy  dollars, 
and  he  calculated  that  the  pleasure  and  free- 
dom of  this  inexpensive  excursion  would 
divert  him  from  the  sadness  that  came  with- 
the  vanishing  college  days. 

"  Trim  boat  there,  and  quit  fooling !  Man 
your  oars!  —  Peak!"  Every  blade  shot  into 
the  air,  and  stood  in  the  sun  in  a  glistening 
row  —  everyone  but  Proc's.  Proc,  the  irre- 
pressible, whose  place  was  "  second  stroke," 
had  got  into  some  comical  tussle  with  his 
starboard  mate,  and  in  the  scramble  to  raise 
his  oar  when  the  order  came,  his  right  sleeve 
caught  in  the  thowl,  and  twitched  him  over 
with  his  heels  in  the  air.  In  another  second 
he  was  tumbling  in  the  green  sea.  Poor 
Snickerby  !  But  no;  nobody  need  undertake 


THE  BBOKEN  SPOON  MENDED.      393 

to  pity  him.  He  was  like  a  frog  in  the  water, 
and  when  he  got  out,  —  as  he  did  almost  as 
quickly  as  he  got  in, —  he  minded  quite  as 
little  about  the  wet.  It  was  some  time, 
though,  before  order  could  be  restored,  for 
Proc  once  back  in  his  seat,  every  man  of  the 
crew  went  into  a  roaring  spasm,  and  it 
seemed  as  if  "  stroke  "  Hardy  and  "  bow '' 
Forrest  would  laugh  away  all  their  strength. 
Even  "  Commodore  "  Faunce,  who  was  not  a 
"  good  laugher,"  shook  so  that  he  almost 
dropped  his  yoke-lines. 

"Peak  !"  once  more.  "  Ship !  Give  way  ! '' 
And  with  a  long  pull  and  a  steady  pull 
the  crew  of  the  "  Thetis "  sped  down  the 
harbor. 

The  sun  was  blistering  hot,  and  soon  dried 
the  water  out  of  Proc's  clothes,  leaving  him 
covered  all  over  with  a  hoar  crust  of  salt, 
and  the  infinite  suggestiveness  of  his  appear- 
ance, and  the  cackling  good  humor  with 


394  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

which  he  bore  it,  made  the  fellows  forget  all 
the  toil  of  rowing.  To  have  Proc  along  was 
worth  half  a  dozen  spare  hands. 

They  lunched  on  the  boat,  and  reaching 
Rivington  a  little  past  noon,  they  rowed  three 
miles  up  the  Kinnebassit,  and  camped  at 
Cedar  Bluff.  It  was  a  lovely  resting-place. 
The  farms  across  the  river,  with  white- 
sleeved  husbandmen  at  work  in  the  growing 
corn,  and  cottage  dwellings  peeping  out  be- 
tween clustering  orchards;  the  distant  pas- 
tures dotted  with  feeding  flocks  and  cattle, 
and  musical  with  the  shrill  bleat  of  lambs; 
the  high  shores  above  and  below  waving 
with  the  red  cedar,  and  maple,  and  beech ; 
and  the  shining  water  underneath,  just  rip- 
pled by  the  rising  tide,  made  a  scene  that 
refreshed  every  eye  and  soul,  and  sketched 
on  every  memory  a  picture  of  peace.  In  a 
grove,  in  a  little  nook  on  the  low  beach  under 
the  bluff,  the  students  spread  their  tent,  and 


THE  BBOKEN  SPOON  MENDED.      395 

were  just  in  time  to  discover  a  beautiful  little 
spring  by  the  river  brink,  covered  at  flood 
tide,  and  fill  their  bucket  from  it  before  high 
water  came. 

Then  they  stripped  their  feet,  and  ran 
about  like  country  urchins  on  the  grass, 
grave  Faunce  planting  his  sole  on  a  thistle 
in  the  course  of  the  fun,  and  actually  beg- 
ging somebody  to  say  "  thunder  and  light- 
ning" for  him.  Towards  night  an  honest 
cow  came  near,  looking  astonished,  and  Ned 
McFarlane  and  Charley  Durkee,  prudently 
thoughtful  of  supper,  began  trying  to  make 
a  bargain  with  her  for  a  quart  of  milk.  But 
her  owner's  boy,  arriving  soon  after,  proved 
a  more  willing  negotiator,  and  invited  Proc, 
who  stood  hungrily  holding  a  saucepan,  to 
"  take  "  what  was  wanted.  Proc  set  about 
milking,  but  the  cow  turning  round,  smelt  the 
salt  on  his  clothes,  and  took  such  a  fancy  to 
him  that  she  began  to  eat  his  shirt  off;  and 


396  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

finally  the  boy  finished  the  milking  himself, 
got  his  money,  and  went  home  happy. 

Meantime  Hardy,  Barkenhead,  and  Tolman 
had  caught  a  few  fish,  and  Lem  Forrest,  who 
was  "  cook  "  for  the  crew,  had  started  a  fire 
and  unpacked  the  coffee  fixings ;  and  a  tooth- 
some and  a  hearty  supper  the  fellows  made 
that  evening,  with  the  cloth-covered  grass 
for  their  table,  and  good  appetites  for  their 
sauce.  At  night  they  hung  their  big  lantern 
in  their  tent,  and  piling  their  portmanteaus 
and  blankets  in  a  row  through  the  middle, 
laid  their  heads  on  them,  four  one  side  and 
four  the  other,  with  their  toes  towards  the 
tent-pins.  Some  tried  to  read,  but  the  moths 
and  June-bugs  had  found  out  where  they 
were,  and  begun  to  visit  them  too  familiarly 
for  any  comfort  in  literature.  Every  man 
was  tired,  and  just  drowsy  enough  to  be 
foolish.  Charley  Durkee  began  to  hum, 
«  The  Girl  1  left  behind  Me,"  and  Barkenhead 


THE  BROKEN  SPOON  MENDED.  397 

struck  in  with  "India-rubber  Overcoat,"  to 
put  him  out;  -but  Charley  kept  on.  Proc 
tried  "  0  the  Horse-boat ; "  whereupon  Tol- 
man  began  the  "  Bold  Soldier  Boy,"  and  Lern 
Forrest  tuned  up  "  Erin  go  bragh  !  Will-bee, 
well-bee-wack-fa-la."  But  all  of  them  could 
not  put  out  Charley  Durkee,  and  there  were 
five  melodies  (?)  going  at  once  —  babel 
enough  to  scare  the  crickets,  if  not  the  June- 
bugs.  Presently  Faunce  was  seen  to  get  up 
deliberately,  and  wipe  something  off  the  back 
of  his  neck,  and  that  put  an  end  to  the 
singing. 

"What's  the  matter,  Faunce?" 

"  I  guess  it's  a  Xylota  ejuncida."  And  that 
seemed  to  set  the  example  to  all  the  rest. 
Barkenhead  got  up  not  very  deliberately.  In 
fact  he  made  a  flying  leap  for  the  tent-door, 
his  long  legs  swinging  like  a  pair  of  flails. 
"  Eh  !  eh  !  there's  a  Stizus  unicinctus  on  me ! " 
The  mob  of  insects  were  now  in  perfect  riot 


398  THB  WOODEN  SPOON. 

around  the  lantern,  and  dropping  and  shoot- 
ing in  every  direction.  Hardy  cried  out  that 
a  Papilio  pldlenor  had  hit  him  in  the  eye. 
"Ugh!  ugh!"  Macfarlane  had  a  Calandra 
compressirostra  in  his  trousers-leg.  "  Ouch  ! " 
There  was  a  Boletophagus  cornutus  buzzing 
in  Tolman's  hair  !  "  Ki-yi ! "  and  Proc  ex- 
ecuted a  ground-tumble  with  a  monstrous 
Scarabceus  tityus  sticking  to  his  ear !  About 
that  time  it  began  to  occur  to  the  fellows  to 
hang  the  lantern  outside. 

"  Kegular  haze,  wasn't  it?"  remarked  Har- 
dy, when  the  hubbub  was  over.  "  Zounds ! " 
quoth  Barkenhead,  "  we'd  better  box  up  a 
bushel  or  two  of  these  bugs,  and  send  them 
down  to  the  next  Sophomore  class."  And 
so,  laughing,  and  -  rubbing  themselves,  and 
shaking  their  blankets,  the  disturbed  camp- 
ers settled  down  again.  "Tin  going  to  un- 
dress," said  Faunce,  after  fifteen  minutes' 
quiet ;  "  it's  streaming  hot ;  "  and  he  threw 


THE  BROKEN  SPOON  MENDED.  399 

off  most  of  his  clothes,  the  rest  doing  the 
same.  They  found  that  they  could  burn  one 
little  bed-lamp,  and  the  night-flyers  would 
not  notice  it,  with  the  bright  lantern  hanging 
outside  on  the  end  of  the  tent-pole.  Hardy, 
who  had  lost  his  drowsiness,  took  out  his 
portfolio,  and  began  to  write  a  letter  to  Jane 
and  Silas.  The  rest  of  the  company  were 
soon  asleep.  He  finished  his  letter,  describ- 
ing the  bug  "  haze,"  &c.,  and  then,  pencil 
still  in  hand,  mused  his  college  regrets  over 
again  —  the  very  thoughts  he  had  come  up 
the  Kinnebassit  to  get  away  from.  He  kept 
on  scribbling  instead  of  going  to  sleep. 

"Farewell  to  the  spells  that  bind  us 

In  the  thrall  of  a  thrice-told  theme; 
Farewell  to  the  days  behind  us, 
That  fade  like  a  splendid  dream." 

"  Hullo  1 " 

McFarlane  waked  up,  and  Hardy  was  glad 
he  did. 


400  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

"  There  '11  be  a  thunder-shower  before 
morning:  I  feel  it  in  my  bones." 

"  Let  it  come,"  said  Hard}7 ;  "  we'll  rest  the 
better ; "  and  he  put  out  his  light,  and  lay 
down.  The  two  talked  a  while  in  half-whis- 
pers, and  then  all  was  still  for  three  or  four 
hours. 

When  the  company  next  opened  their  eyes 
on  each  other  they  were  outside  the  tent  in 
the  dark,  a  tousled  squad  en  dishabiUe,  hold- 
ing their  clothes  in  their  hands.  McFarlane's 
"bones"  were  good  prophets.  The  thunder 
shower  had  come,  and  a  tremendous  one — and 
it  had  drowned  them  out. 

"What  time  is  it,  I  wonder ?;'  mumbled 
Tolman,  rubbing  his  eyes.  Just  then,  in  a 
pause  of  the  retiring  thunder,  they  heard  a 
distant  cock  crow.  It  was  three  o'clock ; 
and  they  concluded  not  to  go  to  bed  again. 

This  will  answer  for  a  description  of  the 
camping-out  life  of  the  crew  of  the  Thetis 


THE  BROKEN  SPOON  MENDED.      401 

(bating  the  bugs  and  the  rain)  during  all 
their  Kinnebassit  trip.  They  rowed  up  the 
river  by  easy  stages  as  far  as  Squantuck 
Highlands,  where  the  rapids  stopped  them; 
and  there  they  staid  two  days.  I  have  no 
space  to  relate  their  adventures,  and  how 
they  fished,  and  bathed,  and  picked  wild 
strawberries,  and  made  droll  acquaintances; 
and  how  Barkenhead  ran  a  race  with  a  yellow 
dog,  and  got  back  their  bag  of  fat  pork  that 
the  boast  had  stolen;  and  how  Proc  "floated'' 
on  his  back  in  the  rapids  from  top  to  bottom, 
wearing  an  old  white  hat,  and  bobbing  up 
and  down  like  an  empty  keg.  Every  night, 
after  the  first,  their  sleep  was  sound  and 
sweet;  every  day  the  weather  was  inviting 
for  out-door  pastime.  On  Sunday  they  all  — 
save  one  detailed  of  necessity  to  watch  the 
boat  and  tent  —  attended  the  little  Squantuck 
church,  a  sun-burnt  but  gentlemanly  seven; 
and  when  they  returned  down  the  river 
26 


402  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

there  was  not  one  of  them  but  carried  more 
strength  in  his  sinews,  and  more  happiness 
in  his  heart. 

On  the  eighth  day,  as  they  passed  Hilbury, 
and  rounded  the  bend  just  below,  they  came 
suddenly  upon  two  men  drawing  a  shad-net. 
Hilbury  was  the  most  beautiful  town  on  the 
river,  and  was  so  much  admired  for  its  ro- 
mantic situation  that  city  people  often  made 
it  a  summer  resort.  At  this  time  a  few,  it 
appeared,  had  already  arrived,  for  our  excur- 
sionists met  a  small  party  returning  from  a 
morning  boat-ride.  At  the  place  where  the 
men  were  fishing  the  river  shallowed  and 
widened  between  lovely  meadows,  and  here, 
as  the  students  floated  down  the  current,  and 
the  Hilbury  party  moved  up  stream  nearer 
the  bank,  both  boats  came  within  the  sweep 
of  the  long  net,  and  could  not  escape  before 
the  ends  were  hauled  ashore  The  queer 
catch  made  good  fun  for  the  men,  and  quite 


THE  BROKEN  SPOON  MENDED.      403 

us  good  for  the  captured  crews.  "  Biggest 
haul  we  ever  made,"  remarked  one  of  the 
fishers  dryly,  as  the  boats  huddled  close  to 
the  bank,  and  the  seine  came  combing 
through  the  shallows  full  of  struggling,  silver- 
sided  shad  and  white-fish ;  and  then  there 
was  a  great  laugh  all  round. 

There  were  four  of  the  Hilbury  party,  two 
young  men,  and  two  young  ladies.  But  what 
was  Hardy's  surprise  to  recognize  one  of  the 
latter  as  Margaret  Granger!  Her  surprise 
was  equal  to  his,  when  she  knew  him  in  his 
boating  uniform,  and  with  his  sunburnt  face. 
It  soon  appeared  that  Margaret  was  no  longer 
Miss  Granger,  but  a  young  bride,  for  she 
presented  her  "  husband/'  a  fine-looking  gen 
tleman,  who  proved  to  be  "  Mr.  Wilson,  junior 
partner  with  Mr.  Mulford  in  Colebridge  City." 
The  two  parties  in  the  boats  were  introduced 
and  placed  on  talking  terms  at  once,  for 
the  oddity  of  their  meeting  made  mutual  ao 


404  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

quaintance  easy  ;  but  "  Mrs.  Wilson "  had 
something  more  to  tell  Hardy,  as  soon  as  the 
stir  and  sport  of  landing  the  fish  had  sub- 
sided a  little.'  "  Mrs.  Hanford  is  stopping  up 
here  at  the  hotel,"  said  she.  "  She  intends 
to  start  for  New  Harbor  to-morrow,  to  see 
you.  It  is  fortunate  that  we  met,  for  she 
would  have  been  disappointed.  Shall  I  carrj 
her  a  message  from  you,  or  will  you  call  ? r 

"  I  will  call,"  Hardy  said  at  once.  He 
would  not  pass  so  near  his  early  and  best- 
loved  school-teacher  without  seeing  her. 

"Jump  in  here,  and  go  up  with  us,"  said 
Mr.  Wilson  heartily.  "Room  enough  in  the 
stern-sheets;"  and  the  invitation  was  seconded 
by  the  whole  Hilbury  party. 

"  Thank  you,  but  not  in  this  dress,"  said 
Hardy.  But  his  objection  was  overruled  with 
outcries  from  both  the  boats.  The  uniform 
was  "just  the  thing;  "  a  college-navy  man  who 
pulled  a  stroke  oar  might  be  "proud  of  hia 


THE  BKOKEN  SPOON  MENDED.      405 

rig "  anywhere ;  and  some  of  his  classmates 
made  jocose  remarks  about  tbe  privilege  of  a 
"handsome  man,"  &c.,  till,  to  end  it  all,  Hardy 
got  aboard  with  his  new  acquaintances,  and 
started  up  the  river.  "  Back  to-night,"  he 
said,  as  he  left  his  crew. 

"  Camp  at  Redstone,"  shouted  Faun'ce. 

"Yes,  I  know." 

And  the  Hilbury  boat  disappeared  round 
the  "bend,  while  the  Thetis,  after  taking  in  a 
supply  of  fresh  shad,  pursued  its  way  down 
the  stream.  In  some  further  conversation 
with  Margaret,  Hardy  learned  that  Mr.  Han- 
ford's  grandfather,  the  singular,  deaf  old  man 
of  whom  he  had  such  uncomfortable  recollec- 
tion, had  recently  died.  But  that  Mrs.  Han- 
ford  had  any  particular  purpose  in  seeing 
him,  other  than  to  make  a  friendly  visit,  he 
did  not  begin  to  guess  till  Margaret  men- 
tioned that  "  aunty  "  had  made  a  journey  to 
Colebridge  shortly  before  the  old  man's  death, 


406  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

and  had  some  time  before  written  him  a  let 
ter  —  perhaps  two  letters.  Then  he  thought 
of  Miss  Tabitha  Magraw's  friendship  for  him- 
self, the  mystery  of  her  manner  lately,  hint- 
ing at  some  discovery  of  her  own,  and  her 
cautious  promise  touching  "  inquiries  "  whose 
result  she  seemed  to  be  awaiting. 

"But  his  interview  with  Mrs.  Hanford  re- 
vealed the  meaning  of  everything,  and 
cleared  up  all  the  puzzles  of  the  last  three 
years.  She  was  looking  worn,  and  he  could 
readily  account  for  it  when  she  hinted  what 
a  fearful  care  it  had  been  to  wait  on  "  Grand- 
pa Tudor "  during  his  last  days.  It  was  the 
end  of  a  troubled  life,  and  there  seemed  to  be 
so  much  to  settle  and  put  right,  and  it  was  so 
hard  to  answer  his  questions  and  make  him 
hear.  After  the  first  greetings,  and  talk  of 
health,  and  weather,  &c.,  were  over,  she 
asked  him  if  he  had  received  her  "  letter." 
Hardy  certainly  had  not.  "  Then  it  is  in  the 


THE  BROKEN  SPOON  MENDED.      407 

office  at  New  Harbor  for  you,"  she  said,  '  I 
wrote  it  ten  days  ago,  the  week  alter  Grand- 
pa Tudor  died.  But  I  can  tell  you  the  con- 
tents." And  ,then  she  astonished  the  young 
man  by  informing  him  that  the  strange  old 
cynic  had  left  him  two  thousand  dollars  in  his 
will,  and  a  small,  curiously  carved,  oaken  box, 
which  he  aad  always  kept  near  his  bed  and 
seemed  to  guard  with  jealous  solicitude. 
From  that  she  went  on  to  give  his  history  as 
far  as  she  knew  it,  and  such  explanations 
as  she  could,  including  much  that  she  had 
learned  from  Miss  Tabitha  during  that  lady's 
visit  to  Colebridge.  Old  Rodney  Tudor  had 
inherited  considerable  wealth,  which,  without 
following  any  particular  business,  he  had 
kept  invested,  and  continually  accumulating. 
He  had  outlived  his  wife  and  his  only  child, 
who  died  a  widow,  the  mother  of  Mr.  Han- 
ford  and  Mrs.  Mulford ;  and  for  the  last 
twenty  years  he  had  been  a  solitary  among 


408  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

his  friends,  his  infirmity  of  hearing  growing 
upon  him,  and  his  sharp,  suspicious  temper 
making  him  every  year  more  dreaded  and 
more  disagreeable.  His  only  employment 
had  been  to  watch  his  wealth,  but  no  one  but 
himself  could  tell  how  much  he  had,  or  where 
it  was,  nor  would  he  ever  talk  of  his  rela- 
tions or  descent,  though  a  large  store  of  fam- 
ily facts  must  have  been  in  his  possession. 
It  was  only  known  that  his  father's  name  had 
been  Gartney.  a  nephew  of  Hiram  Gartney 
who  left  the  "  old  will/'  and  nearly  of  his  age, 
and  that,  according  to  Miss  Tabitha's  infor- 
mation, this  man.  Rodney's  father,  had  been 
concerned  with  Hiram  in  the  "legal  plun- 
dering" of  certain  property  from  their  rel- 
atives the  Magraws,  and  afterwards  dis- 
appeared and  changed  his  name.  Rodney 
Tudor  had  returned  to  the  State  after  his 
father's  death,  and  though  in  no  sense  guilty 
of  any  wrong  his  father  might  have  done. 


THE  BROKEN  SPOON  MENDED.      409 

his  bearing  had  always  been  that  of  a  man 
who  inherits  an  uncomfortable  secret,  01 
riches  doubtfully  acquired 

Aged  people  who  had  known  him  spoke 
of  '•  noble  traits ''  in  the  singular  and  silent 
man.,  and  even  of  generous  deeds  that  he 
had  done,  and  in  his  dealings  he  had  always 
been  strictly  just,  but  it  was  evident  that 
his  property  was  more  of  a  trouble  than 
a  comfort  to  him ;  and  though,  until  his 
anxieties  and  infirmities  of  age  disfigured 
him,  his  personal  appearance  inspired  respect, 
nobody  loved  him. 

"Lone,  wild,  and  strange,  he  stood,  alike  exempt 
From  all  affection,  and  from  all  contempt." 

Since  Nicholas'  visit  to  Colebridge  he  had 
asked  a  great  many  questions  about  him, 
and  Mrs.  Hanford  had  told  him  much,  and 
Mr.  Mulford  had  related  to  him  the  story 
of  the  saving  of  the  infant's  life  in  Fen- 


410  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

wick  River.  Nicholas  had  less  need  to 
wonder  (Mrs.  Hanford  said)  at  being  re- 
membered among  his  bequests  than  several 
others  had,  who  never  claimed  relationship, 

r 

and  perhaps  had  never  even  heard  of 
him. 

His  whole  care  and  thought  during  his 
last  days  Deemed  to  be  to  make  amends 
for  some  old  injustice,  and  his  final  dis- 
tribution of  his  property  was  as  eccentric 
as  his  life  had  been.  Of  course  the  family 
at  home  had  been  liberally  provided  for,  but 
his  bequests  to  Miss  Magraw,  the  Hardys, 
Lymans,  and  others,  intimated  his  wish  to 
restore,  as  far  as  possible,  the  thousands 
obtained  by  his  father,  to  those  who  would 
have  inherited  it  if  no  wrong  had  ever  been 
done. 

It  was  plain  enough  now  to  Nicholas  where 
the  five  hundred  dollar  check  came  from, 
though  until  this  moment  he  would  have 


THE  BROKEN  SPOON  MENDED.      411 

thought  himself  .whimsical  in  the  extreme 
to  connect  it  in  any  way  with  the  deaf  old 
man's  inquiry  as  to  how  he  expected  to  "  get 
money  to  pay  for  his  education."  He  men- 
tioned the  gift  to  Mrs.  Hanford. 

"  Ah,"  she  said,  "  I  have  no  doubt  that 
latterly  he  was  bestowing  money  in  just 
that  way.  We  noticed  that  his  letters  to 
his  New  York  banker  were  more  frequent 
than  he  could  have  needed  to  write  upon 
ordinary  business." 

And  now  all  the  interest  centred  on  that 
mysterious  casket,  the  old  carved  oak  box. 
Mrs.  Hanford  had  the  key  in  sacred  keeping, 
to  carry  out  the  donor's  charge  that  no 
hands  but  Hardy's  should  open  it ;  and 
when  she  gave  it  to  him  he  declared  that 
she  should  share  its  secret  with  him.  He 
opened  the  box,  and  found  it  nearly  filled 
with  ancient  papers,  carefully  arranged  in 
files.  These  were  mostly  mortgages  and 


412  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

title-deeds  of  land,  some  of  them  dating  back 
more  than  a  hundred  years ;  but  a  few  were 
'less  ancient,  and  contained  records,  minutes, 
and  genealogical  notes  and  history,  evidently 
written  by  Rodney  Tudor  himself.  They  did 
not  spend  time  examining  the  papers,  how- 
ever, for  an  article  at  the  bottom  of  the  box 
soon  absorbed  all  Hardy's  attention,  and  his 
friends  seemed  to  become  as  much  interested 
in  the  discovery  as  himself. 

There  lay  the  handle  of  the  ancestral 
spoon.  -  Nicholas  seized  it,  and  quickly  un- 
rolled the  white  paper  that  wrapped  it  round. 
On  the  paper  he  read  the  words,  recently 
written,  and  in  the  tremulous  hand  of  four- 
score,— 

"  To  Nicholas  Hardy,  the  one  man  living 
of  his  race  (as  I  believe)  in  whose  heart  and 
veins  beat  the  true  spirit  and  blood  of  old 
Solomon  Hardee,  of  Commodore  Hardy  the 
gallant  friend  of  Nelson,  and  of  Col.  Jeremiah 
Hardie  the  Revolutionary  patriot,  I  restore 


THE  BROKEN   SPOON  MENDED.  413 

this  relic  of  an  ancient  heirloom,  once  a 
treasure  of  value  and  a  token  of  fortune  to 
his  kindred,  and  kept  unbroken  through  three 
generations  as  a  sacred  souvenir. 

"  RODNEY  TUDOR." 

Here,  then,  was  the  rifled  treasure  at  last, 
the  silent  witness  of  the  Gartney  wrong. 
Old  Rodney's  father,  with  his  share  of  the 
Magraw  plunder,  had  stolen  it  away.  There 
could  be  but  one  meaning  to  this.  The  old 
"  diamond  "  legend  was  truth,  and  the  truth 
had  been,  till  a  little  more  than  a  century 
ago,  a  family  secret  and  a  family  veneration. 
A  renegade  of  the  race  had  violated  it  at 
last.  No  wonder  he  changed  his  name.  It 
was  only  strange  that  he  had  not  destroyed 
this  memento  of  his  guilt.  Perhaps  it  was 
compunction.  Perhaps  a  superstitious  fear 
came  upon  him  after  he  had  robbed  the  old 
talisman  of  its  riches.  Perhaps  it  was  the 
forgetfulness  of  crime's  own  folly.  These 
thoughts  rushed  swiftly  through  young 


414  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

Hardy's  brain  before  he  could  decide  to 
actually  search  and  see  if  there  was  any 
sign  that  the  old  handle  had  ever  held  a 
diamond  at  all.  He  was  almost  ashamed 
to,  for  Mrs.  Hanford  had  never  heard  any- 
thing about  it.  He  turned  the  venerable 
stick  over  and  over  in  his  hand.  It  was 
somewhat  plainer  than  the  one  his  fancy  had 
modelled  for  his  friend  Barkenhead,  but  still 
it  was  a  beautiful  piece  of  carving,  and  some 
of  the  old  silver  ornamental  work  remained 
upon  it,  and  he  was  pleased  to  trace  in  its 
shape  something  of  the  serpentine  pattern 
that  he  had  conceived,  as  Cuvier  could 
conceive  a  whole  animal  from  one  of  its 
bones. 

"  Is  it  possible  that  the  old  gentleman 
knew  I  had  the  bowl  of  this  old  spoon  ? " 
he  questioned  half  to  himself. 

"  I  think  he  must  have  learned  it  from  Miss 
Magraw,"  said  Mrs.  Hanford,  smiling.  "  She 


THE   BROKEN   SPOON   MENDED.  415 

was  obliged  to  speak  very  loud,  and  the 
family  could  not  help  overhearing  some 
words  of  the  conversation  in  his  room  while 
she  was  there.  I  can  answer  for  her  that 
she  talked  of  you  as  a  mother  would,  and 
she  seemed  to  have  a  singular  influence  over 
him.  She  wanted  none  of  his  money  for 
herself,  I  think." 

Hardy  continued  to  examine  the  old 
handle,  instinctively  searching  for  a  screw- 
joint.  If  there  was  one  it  was  most  inge- 
niously concealed.  At  last  the  bulb  near 
the  lower  end  yielded  a  little  to  a  strong 
twist  that  he  brought  to  bear  upon  it. 
Was  it  possible?  A  little  further  strain 
upon  the  wood  started  the  bulb  apart  with 
half  a  turn.  Could  there  be  such  a  strange 
coincidence  ?  It  must  have  been  a  dream, 
a  premonition,  that  inspired  his  guess !  The 
joint  was  there,  and  by  the  time  he  had 
opened  it,  he  half  expected  to  see  the 


416  THE   WOODEN    SPOON. 

diamond  itself.  There  was  the  round  hollow 
where  it  had  been  ;  a  good-sized  stone  that 
must  have  been  worth  $2,500.  Old  Rodney 
Tudor  had  given  him  just  the  value  of 
the  stolen  gem  1 


Hardy  rode  to  Redstone  with  Mr.  Wilson 
and  his  wife  and  Mrs.  Hanford,  and  at  the 
close  of  a  lovely  afternoon  hailed  his  class- 
mates once  more  in  their  little  camp. 

"  You'll  see  me  at  Commencement,  and 
my  husband,  too,"  said  Mrs.  Hanford.  "  I 
am  away  for  a  rest,  and  I  shall  not  re- 
turn home  till  I  have  seen  and  heard  my 
little  mischievous  Nick  Hardy  '  speak  in 
public  on  the  stage.'  " 

And  then  the  pleasure  -party  all  bade 
good-bye,  and  rode  back  to  Hilbury. 

"  Come  here,  Bark,"  said  Hardy,  a  few 
minutes  afterwards,  taking  Barkenhead  aside. 


THE   BROKEN   SPOON  MENDED.  417 

He  had  taken  the  old  spoon-bowl  from  his 
dressing-case,  and  joined  it  to  its  long-lost 
stem.  The  ragged  ends  of  the  break  fitted 
perfectly. 

• 

"  Mighty  Jackson  1  Where  did  you  get 
that?" 

Hardy  made  all  the  explanation  it  was 
proper  to  make,  and  the  two  talked,  and 
handled,  and  fussed  over  the  curious  old 
relic  till  Forrest  finished  frying  the  shad, 
and  called  the  crew  to  supper. 

On  the  next  day  but  one  the  Thetis  was 
back  in  its  place  in  the  navy  boat-house ; 
and  very  soon  after  his  return  to  college 
Hardy  went  to  No.  209  Savin  Street,  car- 
rying the  recovered  heirloom  with  him. 
With  all  that  Miss  Tabitha's  energy  had 
discovered,  she  had  not  found  out  that  old 
Rodney  Tudor  had  the  missing  stem  in  his 
possession.  The  papers  which  the  secret 
panel  in  the  old  cabinet  disclosed  were 
27 


418  THE   WOODEN  SPOON. 

ancient  inventories  of  personal  property  be- 
longing to  her  family,  and  among  the  items 
was  counted  "  The  Diamond  Spoon ; ''  and 
she  was  able  to  determine  the  time  this 
precious  relic  was  rifled,  and  to  trace  the 
theft  to  Hiram  Gartney's  nephew,  Rodney's 
father.  Her  use  of  this  information  had, 
doubtless,  quickened  the  old  man's  sensi- 
bilities, and  hastened  his  purpose  of  restitu- 
tion ;  but  the  broken  stem  that  had  held 
the  stolen  diamond  remained  his  secret  till 
he  died. 


Probably  no  other  graduate  had  a  larger 
"  personal  attendance  "  at  Commencement 
than  Mr.  Nicholas  Hardy.  Not  only  his 
"old  school-ma'am,"  Mrs.  Hanford,  was  there, 
with  her  husband,  but  actually  his  father  and 
mother,  and  Sue,  and  Abe,  and  Phoebe, 
and  Annette,  and  Sally  and  Jerry,  and  their 
husbands  and  wives  (if  they  had  them),  rose 


THE  BROKEN  SPOON  MENDED.      419 

up  with  one  accord,  and  came  to  New  Harbor 
to  hear  Nick  "  speak  his  piece." 

To  most  of  them  the  journey  was  the  great 
effort  of  their  lives.  There  had  never  been 
such  a  sensation  in  the  Hardy  family  since 
the  great  Fenwick  River  flood.  Of  course 
Silas  and  Jane  were  already  on  the  ground  ; 
and  they  and  Nicholas  provided  for  their 
relatives  handsomely. 

Saul  Hardy  and  his  wife  had  got  over 
their  craze  about  the  grand  "  inheritance." 
The  marked  improvement  during  the  last 
few  years  in  their  mental,  moral,  and  social, 
and  even  financial  condition  was  due  (and 
they  knew  it  and  honestly  owned  it)  solely 
to  one  cause,  their  pride  in  their  educated 
son.  In  this  improvement  all  their  less  edu- 
cated children  shared.  It  was  wonderful  to 
see  how  the  influence  of  Nicholas'  superior 
course  and  character  had  (in  the  rustic 
phrase)  "  smarted  up  "  the  whole  family,  and 


420  THE  WOODEN    SPOON. 

given  them  higher  tastes  and  ambitions, 
and  a  better  appearance,  better  habits,  and 
better  homes.  Their  regard  for  him  had  led 
them  to  a  true  respect  for  themselves,  for 
it  developed  in  them  a  healthy  shame  to 
appear  unworthy  of  him.  In  this  benefit, 
once  begun,  Jane,  of  course,  had  aided  not  a 
little,  and  Silas'  return  and  "  resurrection  " 
(as  he  always  persisted  in  calling  it)  had 
given  a  new  impulse  to  the  general  hope 
and  gain. 

And  so,  having  brought  our  friend  Nich- 
olas and  his  relatives  together  in  "  grand 
tableau,"  I  must  dismiss  Commencement  with 
a  line,  or  my  chapter  will  never  be  done. 
He  delivered  a  fine  oration  on  "  Self-culture 
and  School-culture,"  and  received  from  the 
President  on  a  piece  of  parchment  his  de- 
gree of  A.  B.,  which  in  itself  made  him 
no  better  or  worse. 


fHE  BROKEN   SPOON  MENDED.  421 

The  old  papers  in  the  Tudor  box  .were 
put  into  Squire  Gammel's  hands,  and 
were  found  to  contain  evidence  proving 
the  claims  of  the  Hardy  family  in  the 
Gartney  will.  But  even  after  its  provisions 
were  ascertained  and  settled,  the  trouble  of 
realizing  the  property  was  so  great  that  the 
bequests  were  practically  worthless.  Nich- 
olas, and  all  his  relatives,  had  learned  how 
to  support  themselves  without  waiting  for 
dead  men's  money,  and  having  learned  this 
they  were  prepared  to  receive  thankfully 
any  needed  assistance  that  came  in  an 
honorable  way.  Miss  Tabitha  Magraw,  being 
left  alone  after  the  marriage  of  her  niece, 
purchased  land  on  the  Crampton  Meadows, 
and  sent  for  Nicholas'  youngest  sister,  Sally, 
and  her  husband,  to  come  and  live  with 
her.  The  young  man  was  thrifty  and  care- 
ful, and  soon  made  his  new  farm  near 
the  city  the  admiration  of  the  neighborhood 
for  beauty  and  productiveness. 


422  THE  WOODEN  SPOON. 

Silas  continued  to  work  for  Mr.  Lego, 
winning  golden  opinions  for  his  steadiness, 
fidelity,  and  skill. 

What  became  of  Jane,  Mr.  Matthew  Calvin 
will  be  happy  to  tell  you  any  time  you 
choose  to  call  at  his  office  in  the  city  of 
New  York. 

The  members  of  the  family  still  in  Pen- 
wick  Falls  were  all  prospering  at  last  ac- 
counts, though  the  general  testimony  is  that 
Annette  has  "  made  out "  a  little  better  than 
the  rest. 

And  as  for  Nicholas  himself,  of  course  all 
are  glad  to  know  that  he  was  so  far  pro- 
vided for  financially  that  he  could  go  back 
to  New  Harbor  and  spend  three  years  in 
the  University  Law  School. 

For  particulars  of  his  life  and  career  aftei 
wards   I   refer  you   to   Miss   Nellie   Lincoln 
(she-that-was)  and  to  the  records  of  the  State 
Legislature,  and  to  the  clerk  of  the  Superior 
Court  now  sitting  in  Colebridge. 


20" 


A    000  979  355     5 


